


Bequeathment

by CBronte



Series: Bequeathment [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bequeathment, Bronte - Freeform, Bronte Fan Fiction, Death Eaters, Draco Malfoy - Freeform, Draco Malfoy Fan Fiction, Draco Malfoy smut, F/M, Harry Potter - Freeform, Hogwarts, Malfoy, Obliviation, Slow Burn, Slytherin, Smut, Smutty, Tragedy, cbronte, draco - Freeform, dracofanfic, madeleine - Freeform, smutty fanfiction, smutwarning, spciy, voldemort - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 21:21:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 26
Words: 72,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29907243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CBronte/pseuds/CBronte
Summary: He's a high-class Slytherin heir. She's a French Beauxbaton transfer student with little knowledge about Hogwarts and the British Wizarding Universe.Finding herself drawn to him despite his arrogance, she'll soon discover that her persistence to familiarize herself with him will become a prison, drawing her deeper and deeper into a world darker than she'd ever imagined. He's lost his virginity to her and there is a price to pay as the Malfoy Family Crest blossoms on her neck in the form of an ancient, unbreakable vow to now marry on a timeline. As the possibility of escaping his wicked family entrapment dwindles each day, survival instincts will force them both to make agonizing decisions.{Book Two: Obliviation by CBronte/Bronte Fan Fiction}WARNINGS: Sexual Scenes|Trauma|GoreNote: With deep respect for JK Rowling, the author of Harry Potter. I do not claim any rights to the original work, this is simply a fan fiction story
Relationships: Draco Malfoy and Madeleine Desrosiers
Series: Bequeathment [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2198877





	1. Prologue

The Hogwarts Express rolled across the European landscape with haste and intention, grinding against the tracks below it with an angry rhythm. It was raining but the heat of the summer still clung to the air, causing the windows to fog with precipitation. Inside of the cabins students with magical abilities prepared for another year at the academy that trained them for the use of witchcraft and wizardry. Without quite realizing it, they were beings that existed on the fringe of perceptible reality, able to draw from the energy of the universe around them. 

The back of the train was mainly inhabited by the most uncouth of them all. The Slytherin House typically clustered there to send resentful sneers at each other and toss around snide remarks. 

Draco Malfoy had his head planted firmly against the glass in isolation, watching the green landscape slide by. He was without a doubt in an aggravated mood. The school had conformed to new standards released by the Ministry of Magic, which bluntly required an extension of educative curriculums, meaning he had to stay at Hogwarts until he was almost twenty. The decision of the academy to push it's number of school years to nine had been unbelievably unfair, in his opinion. He'd almost been finished when they'd announced it in his sixth year, now he was starting his eighth year.

The large open cabin at the back was rowdy and obnoxious, consistently distracting him from his thoughts. It had been a long and defeating summer at the Malfoy Manor. With the dark lord slowly rising back to power, he'd been forced by his family to join the Death Eaters in order to protect the entire household and appease Voldemort. The scalding dark mark on his arm never seemed to be forgiving of the pain, and no matter what efforts he made to remove the ink he was unsuccessful and burdened with it. As a result, he was under immense pressure to find ways to make Harry Potter vulnerable to failure in his fight against the dark lord.

On top of this he was under additional scrutiny to marry Astoria Greengrass, whom his father had selected as an appropriate pureblood choice to unify their families and produce an heir to the Malfoy Manor. She was to visit him at Hogwarts regularly in order to present opportunity to seal the deal. The entire affair produced feelings of hatred and resentment in him, as he could hardly stand her personality. She was needy and desperate, tended to scream when she was displeased, and acted immature in general. The idea of spending a lifetime with her in the Manor was horrifying at best.

It seemed for all the world that he would never find any form of true happiness. Everything was set, planned, organized for him far in advance and with none of his approval. He'd been raised like a sheep, groomed into a demonic and cruel character. His entire life was a cage.

The unnerving feeling of eyes on him suddenly drew his attention to the side. A girl with long blond hair that flowed in waves was peering at him over the top of a book that vaguely suggested how to translate French to English. Her golden eyes were fixated on him, running down his figure. When she looked up and caught his narrowed gaze, she dramatically blushed and buried her face behind the text. He simply dismissed it as arbitrary and returned his eyes to the foggy window, feeling lifeless inside.


	2. ﴾ Write Your Own Notes ﴿

The beginning of another school year was commencing. Outside of the stone walls that composed the fabric of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the air hung damp and heavy, quiet yet foreshadowing. The Black Lake resembled a sheet of glass, a mirror reflecting the turrets up towards the sky, only allowing for a few shy ripples in the early hours. It had rained heavily the night prior as students were arriving in droves, and as a result there was fog clinging to the landscape in an eerie gesture.

I had transferred to Hogwarts the previous year from the south of France, Antibes to be exact, on account that my father felt I would have something to gain from an extended education abroad. While the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic had been a delightfully entertaining experience, my English was akin to a bowling ball making it's way down a back alley. This lack in development could be attributed to my stubbornness to only participate in activities that suited my fancy, and learning another language had never been easy or interesting to me. Pushing me out of my comfort zone and right into the damp setting of England apparently was what my father deemed best for my attitude.

I had already completed one year at the school which had been painful, isolating and awful to say in the least. I hadn't made any solid friends at my first year in Hogwarts. This was partially due to the fact that everyone had already been seventeen when I had arrived and with well-established history. The older students seemed to move around in tight-knit groups as though to markedly imply they were at full capacity. The other half of that problem was rooted in my lack of English dialect, causing most individuals to show obvious frustrations while conversing with me. Because I had been sorted into a particularly unfriendly and judgmental house I was especially victim to that attitude despite having a Parisian pureblood status.

Thankfully, I had time to make up for the lost years as Hogwarts had increased it's school years to nine, and we were just beginning our eighth. This was in part due to a long and tedious study partaken by the Ministry to evaluate the secondary education style of muggles, who spent considerably more time training and preparing their kind for the world through institutions known as Universities. It seemed to have been accepted by the British wizarding community as a sign of progression, given that sending seventeen year old's out to start their life long careers was mildly winged and had been causing a lot of workplace set backs.

Due to my foreign status I had become highly introverted even though it wasn't my natural personality. As I combed through my hair that morning I mused if this year would be more stimulating and social for me, having improved my English enough to hold more structured interactions. The previous year I had typically spent my weekends reading and writing out by the lake under a large Oak tree, trying desperately to increase my ability to speak English fluently. It was that or flying around for hours trying to memorize the terrain around the gargantuan academy, or collecting samples of odd, unfamiliar plants from the grounds.

There had been boys some nights, when an opportunity had presented itself which required minimal speaking - the accent typically caught their attention, but they never tried to actually maintain conversations with me because of how difficult it was.

It was the first day of classes, mine beginning with potions - similar to many students my age. I found it odd that anyone would develop a class schedule to begin the morning down in a dark dungeon. In fact compared to the avian and airy atmosphere of the Beauxbatons Acadmeny, Hogwarts felt like a massive seven story tomb of cave-like classrooms and tunnels of stone. The rooms were frequently frigid and uninviting, and on more than one occasion the walls could be seen soaked with water or moss creeping in through the mortar.

As much as I dreaded being in the chilly classroom and seeing Professor Snape who had been very hard on me for not being able to speak fluently, I had overheard Draco Malfoy reading his class schedule out loud to Blaise Zabini in the Slytherin common room. This was one of the classes we shared together, and I had intentions to seat myself directly next to him.

Almost instantly I'd found myself attracted to the Malfoy boy. He was tall, handsome, intelligent, and brooding. But perhaps what was most intriguing was how he skillfully kept people at a distance. It was a toxic trait of mine to desire the most unattainable men. It had been a slow process of gaining any attention from him at all however, as he seemed to preoccupy himself mainly with his male friends, school work and quidditch. He was annoyingly difficult to speak to or even distract. On a few occasions I'd managed to slip in some awkward conversations with him in the great hall during meals at the Slytherin table, but he had a habit of abruptly losing interest and turning around.

It didn't help that my nerves were against me. And it wasn't as though I had a particular issue with anxiety or was socially awkward. In fact, I was known to be rather bold and assertive at my previous academy, using my popularity and charm to get whatever I wanted. Draco however had an excellent ability to turn his steel blue eyes into lasers and his intense stare, sometimes one stacked with suspicion or judgement, was often so overpowering that I would lose track of my prepared topics well into the first minute of speaking. He would raise an eyebrow and either move away or just go back to eating.

There were moments I was genuinely concerned that I was viewed, if at all by him, as nothing more than an irritant that wasted his time with odd conversation. I was sure that studying hard on my English over the summer would improve my odds with Hogwarts students this year, instead of sitting there saying complete gibberish to them.

I finished brushing at the last subtle wave in my long, bright blond hair and stood back to inspect myself in the girls bathroom mirror. The room was packed with Slytherin beauties getting ready for the first day. I had worked on my hair for a good chunk of time while watching intently the reflection of Pansy Parkinson in the mirror a few feet down from me. I had to actively prevent myself from scowling as I glared at her exhaustive efforts to appear impeccable for Malfoy as well.

She had gained her place on my radar last year by actively flirting with him in public, and to my dismay he hadn't totally dismissed her. Not that I was worried he had anything concrete established with her – he was rarely reactive to her efforts to publicly swoon over him – but I could tell that she wanted him. Ergo, she was competition.

My golden eyes were probably very noticeably staring, but thankfully her concentration was quite drawn to herself. A short, clean bob of dark hair framed her pixie-like features. Her dark eyes were large and magnetic. Truly, she was gorgeous in her own right if you could look past her lack of intellect and nasty demeanor.

I had to leave before Pansy did to ensure no seating conflicts so I grabbed my bag and headed out the door. She continued to stare into her reflection completely clueless of my intentions to replace her as the girl that sat next to Draco.

The classroom was already half full of loudly chattering students. People were milling around, some already seated and most just socializing to catch up on summer news. There was a flurry of yellow and green robes everywhere and I realized that the Hufflepuff's were going to be our class companions this year.

It seemed they paired up different houses for tandem classes every year. It was a relief to know that Harry Potter wouldn't be in the same classes as Malfoy, which was usually a deeply distracting issue for both boys. That combination had occurred the previous year - the Gryffindor's and the Slytherin's - which had culminated incredibly slow-moving and interruptive periods. The two consistently picked on each other or openly fought. It had been a puzzling experience for me trying to wrap my foreign mind around the apparent enemies and whatever it was they were saying that was so foul, banking mostly on watching how other students reacted in order to understand.

I scanned around the dungeon classroom for my target; nobody interrupted my mission as I stood glued off to the side of the doorway.

There – white blonde hair, sitting at the back of the room and surrounded by laughing boys. I drank in the sight of his pointed nose and sharp jawline, the sound of his deep and signature voice, his hands clasping onto the edge of the narrow table in front of him. His green and black robes looked impeccably clean and properly pressed. He had a gentle smirk on his face as he marked something down on parchment paper and handed it down the line of Slytherin boys to his right. And right on the edge of Malfoy along the isle, was an open gap.

I walked confidently up to the table and sat down rapidly beside Malfoy before I could come to my senses, our legs and arms touching. I started dropping my bag and collecting my parchment and quill from within, while my sweet perfume began to radiate around me and Malfoy. I fought the ridiculous and sudden desire to burst out laughing at the thought that I had just invaded his nose with my over eager application of it that morning. My lips trembled at the corners and I forced myself to breath through the urge to wheeze.

He glanced over quickly at the odorous bombardment and narrowed his eyes on my face and body. His gaze came to a rest on my green Slytherin tie momentarily, and I realized he still had not registered me as someone he knew. From my peripherals I noticed that his eyes continued to linger, taking in my features. I finished setting up my parchment and ink and by then his attention was once again elsewhere.

"What is that smell? It's like, fruit or candy?" Goyle's long face was contorting from the unfamiliar fragrance of a woman.

Draco gave out a loud snort and without turning to face me he jabbed his finger back towards my direction. I felt heat in my cheeks as they began murmuring. The group of boys were now leaning forwards and backwards to see around Malfoy.

"Ah, Frenchie is here," Crabbe leered at me, "Come to finally make some friends?" His round face was smug and cruel. Frenchie? I queried the offensive nickname in my head. So they did know of me.

Malfoy turned to face me, the corners of his mouth curling downwards in a judgmental way again, like he was completely at a loss as to why I was sitting next to them. I half expected him to give me a push out into the aisle way but he just frowned at me.

"Silence," A heavy, commanding voice sliced through the air. Severus Snape was situated at his typical post at the front as though he just time traveled there. Dozens of heads turned in sudden concentration. He had darned his predictable garb that almost resembled something Dracula would be caught in; long black robes and a silver pocket watch peaking out from beneath his waist coat, a white collar barely an inch showing around his neck. I had learned quite swiftly that he was unforgiving and intolerant to anything that was inconvenient or frivolous.

Snape began slowly explaining the first lesson which would mainly be recapping the previous semester. I started tugging at my skirt hem anxiously. Pansy had been staring at me from across the aisle a few rows down, sending expressions of loathing for moments at a time before swiveling her bob back to the front. She was clearly displeased about my current location in the room as it was likely her spot.

I ignored her and looked down at my blank paper. The smell of Draco's clean clothing against his warm skin was beginning to intoxicate me. Every movement he made was like a sharp knife to my awareness, the scent of pine and smoke infusing the tight space between us.

I was stealing sideways glances down at his arm, his hands, what he was writing. I thought I had been sneaky about it when suddenly he was leaning towards me and whispering, "Write your own notes. Mine aren't for sale."

My face blossomed with heat as I looked up into his bright blue gaze. He had a confrontational smirk across his face like he'd just caught me in some heinous act.

Momentarily I felt indignant as I had not been copying his notes by any means. But quickly I became cognizant that this was an opportunity, "Like I would copy your notes, don' flatter yourself." I grinned slightly and went back to my own notes, my white quill scratching fervently, blatantly aware of his eyes still boring into me. My long hair draped over my shoulder partially shielding my face from his view.

He leaned towards me a second time only to hiss under his breath, "I don't believe you." I sighed and paused my writing, looking down towards the front of the class where Snape was waltzing in slow motion back and forth while pointing at spidery chalk writing on the board. My eyes slid over to look up at his face which was plastered with suspicion.

I slapped my quill down and cocked my head at him, knowing full well that my eyes looked big and mesmerizing from the angle, "Why not? What reason 'ave I got to copy a lazy boy?"

"Lazy?" He questioned in disbelief, a sly grin crept over his face. His eyes drew down over my body to examine me and I tried not to flinch from the boldness. Then he was holding my gaze again, "I have some of the best marks in this class. What makes you think that I'm lazy?" His expression was serious but amused, as though I had just suggested the floor was lava.

I had absolutely no reason to think that he was lazy. I knew actually that he was quite studious. I had slightly panicked from the nerves of him paying me full attention and now I was in a hole. I thought quickly on the spot, "Aren't all boys?" I shrugged and made a face.

He snorted under his breath and looked back at the boys behind him who were leaning around each other slightly to peer at us. He turned back to me and bit his lip, "What's your name?"

My heart fell through the floor. I could feel my blood pulsing in my ears with the force of the ocean, "Wouldn't you like to know, hmm?" I playfully quipped as I toyed with my quill, trying to avoid direct eye contact with him so I wouldn't pass out or say something else stupid.

"I would," he said bluntly. The other boys had now fully turned their attention on the situation and were snickering quietly.

I shook my head with a smirk, "Don' take dis de wrong way but et is dat, you're not my type." My French accent was still heavy and awkward, but it had nevertheless improved and I felt a stab of pride for even getting that far into a conversation with little to no trouble. And it was ridiculous; he was entirely my type. But I’d learned at a young age that acting disinterested gained boys attention much better than openly chasing them.

I was really pushing his buttons now. I wondered vaguely if it was just his pride urging to gain my interest, or if he genuinely wanted it. I could feel his breath on my hand as he put his elbow in my view and leaned into me, "Then what is your type?" His eyes were concentrated on my face with a raised eyebrow.

Pansy was now staring unflinchingly at the display behind her. I could see from the corner of my eye how hard her head was twisting, making it look like she was giving the exorcist a run for it's money.

I turned my head to him again so that now we were very close. I gave him a sympathetic grin, "Boys wit'...practice." I winked at him and reached my hand over and delicately placed it on his upper leg below the table, bracing for the response.

His confidence seemed to vanish like smoke and I watched his brows furrowing with a combination of deep confusion and a warning look to remove my hand. I stared up into his bright blue eyes and gave him a small flirty grin, biting my lower lip. He held my gaze while taking deep breaths and shooting me more versions of confusion. It was like he had never been touched by another human in his life.

The iconic, bored tone of the professor floated around the room in lazy arches as he summarized the agenda. No one else was moving a muscle or sending a single whisper around, out of respect for the merciless teacher. My heart was racing as I slowly dragged my hand higher up his pants.

Before I could reach any further I felt a crushing hand seize over mine, pinning it against his leg momentarily before leaning further into me and harshly uttering, "Stop." He shook his head with an irate stare. Some of the other boys flickered their eyes back towards the situation.

My hand squirmed in his but he kept it pinned where it was, glaring at me. "What are you doing?" he demanded in an icy whisper.

I shrugged, smiling at him.

His mouth dropped open slightly in disbelief at my boldness and his eyes narrowed at me. The flirting had completely dissipated, replaced instead with fear and anxiety. He actively threw my hand back towards me under the table, but his knuckles hit the bottom of the wood making a loud banging noise.

"Malfoy? Can we help you with something?" Snape's voice was quick to respond as his eyes darted up towards us. He suddenly looked suspicious, "What are you and Ms. Desrosiers doing under the table? Care to share with the rest of us?" There was a cluster of keen students staring up at us within moments, some lightly giggling. I briefly realized that it did in fact look like we both had our hands in something below the table.

Malfoy rolled his eyes up towards the ceiling, sighing in agitation, and brought both of his hands up flat onto the table to showcase his innocence. I noticed then that he had a shiny Slytherin ring that glinted in the dim lighting, "We're doing absolutely nothing, Professor," he said, his voice now dripping in acid. I was mind boggled at his ability to switch his mood like gears. Without sparing me a glance, he shoved his elbow hard into my rib cage to indicate that I should bare my hands on the table as well. I followed suit, wincing from the force.

"Good.." Snape said slowly, turning away but looking unconvinced.

Malfoy avoided looking at me for the entirety of the class, emphasizing his new disdain at my presence. He sat more rigidly with his arm defensively across his entire left leg, which must have been difficult for him because he was left-handed and forced to write with his right hand. I tried hard not to acknowledge his cursing from the unavoidable ink blots that blossomed across his notes.

When the class had concluded, Draco snapped his book shut while ignoring the cacophony of mockery from the other boys to his right, "Oooh, Draco, what's under the table?"

"Shut up!" Malfoy seethed, turning towards me, "Get out of my way." He faced me for the first time since the incident, his eyes glittering with disgust.

I stood quickly trying to smooth out my skirt to ensure it wasn't stuck up awkwardly. His shoulder slammed into mine as he climbed out of the booth, practically running away from the classroom.


	3. ﴾ Not That One ﴿

The interaction in morning potions inhabited my mind all day, filling me with incessant giddiness and rushing thoughts. It wasn't all in my head that he had shown interest in me for the first time ever. He'd even asked for my name.

I'd been pleasantly pleased with myself for playing hard to get and not telling him my name. But I had also freaked him out by going too far with the teasing, which had me wondering if he was more innocent than he let on. The multitude of confused expressions across his face had me giggling in reminiscence almost the whole day. 

When I reached my final class of the day, Charms, I could hardly contain my laughing when my eyes locked with his almost immediately. He looked away cringing. The classroom was set up in a semi circle of wooden booths that faced a central podium. Flitwick stood there on a set of tiny stairs that allowed his short form to reach the proper height, and was talking to a rather nervous looking Hufflepuff in the center of the half moon.

I decided it would be best not to press my luck with Malfoy too much that day and sat across from him on the other side of the ring. He was talking to Blaise with an expression of boredom on his face. Blaise glanced once across the ring at me but Draco did not follow his lead. Instead he dropped his blonde head down onto the table, resting it on an outstretched arm. His white hair was fluffy and clean, and fanned out around his skull as he laid there. I could see his pointy nose and nothing more from the angle. His long pale fingers dangled off the edge of the curvilinear table.

Flitwick started to tap his wand rapidly on the teaching stand before looking around the room at the apparent divide in robe colors down the middle of the half moon, "Ah! Yes, excellent. It seems the houses are already divided, today -"

He stopped talking when he noticed my green robes sticking out like a sore thumb amongst the Hufflepuff crowd, "No! No, you've got to come over to this side young lady and sit with your house. On this first day we are going to do a game of sorts, house-to-house! There seems to be lots of space next to er, Mr. Malfoy. Pop pop now!" Flitwick said in his elfish voice, pointing his wand at the back of Malfoy's oblivious resting head. Blaise grimaced on his behalf as I slumped cautiously next to them. Blaise was much less of an animal then the others, who clearly felt enjoyment in chuckling at the situation.

I sighed, and kept my hands to myself. He probably needed the rest if he was really going to try and sleep through a Charms class.

After about ten minutes of speaking, Flitwick stepped down from explaining the wand movements to a charm that would conjure water from the end of the wand, drawing from the atmosphere. It was then that I noticed the gigantic barrels of water around the room. He began walking around the edge of the semi circle showing us microcosmic examples of the charm; little droplets floated from the top of his wand in apathetic orbs.

The idea was to use the water to block water attacks from the opposite team, and simultaneously make attacks. The team that was the wettest at the end would lose, the team that won would get ten house points. As he passed by Draco's stiff, outstretched hand his hat was knocked off of his head as they collided and several of the students began laughing. Draco shifted slightly but did not wake up. Professor Flitwick seemed unconcerned with this and kept walking as he re-straightened his velvety blue hat.

"Ready, set, go!" He said with enthusiasm once he was clear of the war zone perimeter. The water fight began, some students simply spraying mist from their wand tips as they learned the charm. I watched as one girl sprayed herself in the face more than once. Cedrick Diggory circled around the students trying to act a teaching assistant, but mostly was just soaked in the process by untrained wand movements.

Then from across the way a large, unchallenged stream of water snaked towards the Slytherin front row. It was coming directly towards our section and I ducked in horror behind the low wall of the desk. It plunged straight into Malfoy's sleeping face, soaking him to the bone and toppling over the vile of ink he had left out before closing his eyes. The never-ending-replenishing ink sprayed violently with the impact and I felt water and oil drip down onto my head from the counter above. It made its way across my face and clothing, blossoming into ominous black flowers in the absorbent dress cloth. I blinked through the slimy black substance, trying to make sense of the loud yelling around me.

Malfoy was now on his feet, furiously looking down at his ruined white shirt and robes which were dripping in sludge. Blaise was trying to help him wipe the grime from his face and neck, and Malfoy stood there yelling every curse word in the book. A jet stream of water hit him square in the chest and he wobbled, blindly.

I stumbled to stand and realized I miraculously had better vision than he did. The ink had gotten directly into his eyes and Malfoy was struggling not to cry and scream as Blaise attempted to calm him down.

"You too, huh?" Blaise smirked at me sideways, but not in a friendly way, "Are you just going to stand there or help me with him?"

Through his now one clean eye Malfoy snarled, "Not that one." The menacing blue iris had zeroed in on me and looked especially daunting against the contrast of his slimy black face.

"Oh dear," we heard Flitwick exclaim as he waddled over to us with a protective shield charmed around himself, increasing the spraying of the streams hitting him.

"Who is that under all that ink?" He enquired to Blaise who was still trying to mop Draco's face clear with the hem of his robes.

"Malfoy - and you had better expect my father will know about this cursed idea of a game." Draco roared. A girl behind him was spraying mist near the back of his head and his hand shot backwards seamlessly ripping her wand out of her hands and chucking it across the room. It shot like an arrow at the Hufflepuff stands, sending a pack of girls running to the sides.

"Oh okay now, let's see," Flitwick adjusted his spectacles and his wrinkled eyes roved over the crime scene that was me and Draco, "You two look a mess. Maybe you both head off to Pomfrey so she can ensure there's no damage to your eyes with all that ink." 

"I can go too..." Blaise began but he was waved away dismissively by Flitwick. Blaise shot his eyes to me with displeasure, as though I had planned to corner Malfoy into private time.

"No reason to send extra students out of class. You two, get going! And don't lose each other, Mr. Malfoy can barely see." Flitwick's nonchalance towards the threat that Malfoy had issued was affirmed as he waddled off back to his desk.

Draco struggled to latch his satchel across his chest as I waited for him.

When he was clearly ready to leave he took one uncertain step forward and sighed loudly, realizing that he'd have to depend on my help to get to Pomfrey.

"Leaving the wet t-shirt contest so early, Malfoy?" Goyle mocked from the higher stands.

Once we'd made it to the doorway and out into the shockingly silent hallway in comparison to the charms classroom, Draco had fully resigned to holding onto my arm for guidance. We slumbered along the hallway, Draco making dramatic whining noises and me trying to wipe my once blonde, now blackened hair out of my face.

"Your grip is, uh, excessively tight," I cried in protest as my fingers began feeling numb, "Can you please stop squeezing like so?"

He ignored my plea while wiping at his neck and collar, "Fucking zoo in there. How is this education? Disgusting." Draco replied, to no one in particular with no effort to even digest what I had said. Small drops of oil and water mixtures were dripping from his robes and leaving a nice little trail of evidence down the hallways. The ink kept replenishing and spreading all over him. The elves would surely be aghast later while cleaning it.

I just looked at him sideways and laughed. He was unrecognizable, with dark hair, one eye, and filthy clothes he could've easily passed off as a small troll.

"Oh yeah, real rich. They send me out here with the girl who can't even speak English," He said as he used the back of his other hand to try to clear his bad eye, "Bet now you'd love to still get in my pants with me looking like a filthy homeless squib. Hilarious."

I laughed even harder as we dragged forward. Malfoy just hissed under his breath and struggled not to slip on the oil several times as his shoes drifted around recklessly below him. 

When we had almost reached the infirmary, a voice rebounded off of the stone hallways we were headed towards and suddenly Harry Potter had rounded the corner with Ron Weasley. They were chatting loudly about something when Ron clapped a hand over his mouth at the horror of Draco and myself. We must've looked like one big slimy creature because Ron initially screamed.

"Fuck!" Malfoy snarled with revulsion when he recognized their faces. Harry struggled to figure out where to look while rubbing the back of his neck, but Ron was already approaching us astonished.

"Bloody hell, are you people okay?" He gingerly inquired.

I nodded before Malfoy could say anything rude, "I - we are going to de 'ospital now and will be fine. Et is just ink."

"Don't stop moving," Malfoy snapped coldly, ripping my arm forward "I'm not going blind on account of these two."

"Ohh.." Ron said knowingly as he realized it was Malfoy whom he was talking to, then he glanced at Harry and brightened into a loud giggle, "Wicked. You look as much a true git now on the outside as you are on the inside."

Harry barked out laughing at the comment before they disappeared behind us. I heard Ron yelp as he slipped on some of the ink that had dripped from our robes.


	4. ﴾ A Sport Opportunity ﴿

One we'd reached the hospital, he had spent a good hour trying to convince Madam Pomfrey that I was responsible for the ink spill while she generously applied a green solution to his face and wiped furiously. I had stared back into his eyes, holding his gaze from the hosital bed opposite him and said nothing. Pomfrey seemed disinterested in the topic of blame and more concerned with stopping the ink from relentlessly regenerating from where she had managed to remove it. 

We had both been released at the same time with newly darkened hair. Mine had streaks of brown throughout it while Draco's was nearly fully gothic black. He was now reminiscent of a miniature Snape with his obsidian hair and pale complexion. I was secretly jealous of anyone who was going to be in the boy's bathroom at the moment he saw his new appearance – it was surely going to be hysterical.

After the ink accident I didn't see Draco around for almost a week. He seemed to have found a way to collectively avoid almost everyone in the Slytherin common room. I was sure he'd claimed illness or a family issue in order to get out of classes.

I wasn't particularly bothered by it and kept my mind busy on schoolwork and hobbies.

I read an entire divination textbook that week, making the most of my time outside under the tree. The weather was starting to dampen around the edges and winter's bite was beginning to creep into the smell and temperature in the air. 

I also spent a lot of time flying over the Black Lake, trying ridiculous tricks like hanging upside down at breakneck speed just over the water's surface. The move felt like an optical illusion, as though flying extremely close to the ceiling of the sky. My daring personality with sports had often led to broken bones and serious injuries, but I had never shaken the habitual approach to games. My parents had eventually given up trying to stop me. My mother would walk around the house wincing when she saw me with any sort of equipment in my hands or on my body.

On Saturday I woke to the sound of excited yelling in the common room. The girl whose bed was next to mine blinked at me in a similar state of sleepy bewilderment. She sat up with messy brown waves sticking up in every direction and groaned in annoyance. I spent a few minutes braiding my long hair into two braids and wrapped a lanky silk robe around my petite nightgown. I knew if Snape saw me traipsing around the common room in only the short night dress he would surely deduct points from the house, or worse. It wasn't the same in France, where rules about clothing were far laxer. The British seemed more uncomfortable with their own thoughts.

The girl and I only nodded to each other as we left the room. I recognized her from sharing sleeping quarters the previous year. She tended to be wild and rude, but had a witty charm to her and confidence bigger than anyone else in the room combined. Her snarky retorts at the boys in the common room made her popular and she was always seen with a flask on the weekends, laughing too loudly and sitting in the center of the crowd. She was tall, slender, and beautiful with tanned skin and dark blue eyes that commanded the attention of whomever she was speaking with. I knew she assumed I couldn't speak any English at all because the previous year had basically been that way. She probably didn't want to risk wasting her precious energy on decoding my poor word choices.

The common room was packed with shouting students at one end, closest to the dungeon exit. The soft green fire was flickering with nonchalance in the stone hearth, completely ignored in the seating area. Bizarre that a fire would be burning at that hour of the morning, but it was on an endless loop no matter the time of day.

The other Slytherins were dressed in muggle clothing, most still in pajamas and gesturing towards a piece of parchment nailed to the wall.

I squinted and noticed that it was a bulletin for Quidditch team tryouts. Three spots were miraculously available, and I felt my heart lurch longingly. A sport opportunity.

Montague, one of the veteran players on the team was standing close by the parchment and snidely answering questions regarding the positions. He looked annoyed; as though whoever had posted it had not consulted first with his disinterest in bringing on new players. I recognized the spindly cursive writing instantly, although it would have been an easy guess. Malfoy was the team captain and had maintained that position for a few years now. It was his decision when they needed to bring on more players. I knew right away that I had more than one reason to try out, and so I would be there on Sunday.

"You're not seriously thinking of trying out for that, are you?" The girl who had come down with me finally broke her silence. She had an amused gaze on her pretty face as she tried to read my intense focus.

"Why not?" I asked in a surprised tone.

"There's rarely ever Slytherin girls accepted to the team," She quipped matter of factly, "The boys usually make sure of it. They don't like playing with girls. Pathetic little fucks." She rolled her eyes and picked at a manicured nail.

"At my school in France I was on de team. I can play quite well," I defended my interest stubbornly.

"Well.." She trailed off looking somewhere over my shoulder, then glanced back at me with a grin, "Then knock them all off their brooms for me at least, Frenchness."

۞۞۞۞۞

After picking up a full Slytherin quidditch uniform from Snape's office, I headed back to the dorms to get dressed early Sunday morning. The sun had hardly peaked over the trees and I was surprised by the fact that he even answered the door. He was clearly an early riser. With his eyebrows raised in entertainment he had tossed me the green and beige clothing set and swiftly shut the door in my face, barely failing to smash my nose off of it.

I stepped out of the bathroom stall to inspect myself in the girl's mirror. My hair was braided in two blond lines down the sides of my head. I had on enough makeup to look natural but pretty. The uniform fit much more bulkily than the beautiful, feminine French ones had. I cast a quick tailoring spell and the uniform shrank and reformed itself to emphasize my slim physique. I was not about to look like a lumpy toad in front of a bunch of men.

A stall door opened and Pansy walked out, shocked by my presence. She looked me up and down and hardly bothered to stifle a laugh, "So...desperate, are we? He's not going to be interested in a girl who plays men's sports." She looked at me knowingly, her brown eyes glinting cruelly. Even though I was taller than her, she was projecting a lot of energy up at me.

I raised my chin at her, "Some of us don' play sports for men. We play for amusement."

"Some of us can speak proper English." Her upper lip curled into a snarl.

I huffed past her, trying with all my might to poke her with the end of my expensive broomstick on my way by. She made a last second dodge to my dismay.

The walk down to the pitch was long but gorgeous. It was already a blue bird day and my spirits were high. The air was wet and warm, whispers of summer clinging desperately to September. I could've flown there but I wanted to warm up my body with a rapid walk instead. My broomstick glimmered in the sunlight; the gold was exquisite in my opinion. Although the typical colors of Slytherin were silver and green, I was always fonder of gold as a color. Besides, I'd had my broom custom painted a year ago before caring about Hogwarts color drama. I knew it was a better broom than most families could afford, and that was all that mattered.

As I neared the pitch on the final few stone steps that gave way to a long stretch of grass a group of Slytherin boys came into view. They were crowding around, stretching, yelling - brooms were thrown on the ground at various angles, perfect tripping hazards that no one seemed to acknowledge. There was a signature head of white, blond hair in the middle, huddled closely by Montague who was trying to call for order. Marcus Flint was a few yards away busy causing more distraction by kicking a younger boys broom continuously out of his hands.

I vaguely was wondering how Draco had managed to revert his hair back from the intense black color when Montague tapped on his shoulder and pointed at my approaching figure.

Draco's face instantly soured, and he sighed gruffly, walking up to me with heaving aggression, "No! No, no, no, absolutely not!" He shoved me so hard I had to throw my broom back to steady myself from not falling completely over. My ridiculous mind tried not to focus on the fact that he had just pushed me by my breasts, even though I doubted he realized that.

"What are you playing at? What's your next trick hmm?" His eyes were boring into my soul, his face mere inches from mine. I took a split second to acknowledge how fresh his breath was, "You going to knock me off my broom when my back is turned?" 

I hesitated for a second before making a face that gestured at saying of course not. What the heck was he talking about?

My silence was suddenly used against me, "Oh yeah, you can hardly even speak. Right," He was nodding his head as though having a conversation with himself in a mirror. Marcus snorted in the background as he kicked at the younger boys broom for a fifth consecutive time.

"'ow did you clean your hair? It was quite black, no?" I mused, as though I hadn't heard his unrelenting dismissal. I could feel his breath on my face.

"Why do you care? What, was that your preferred color on me?" He laughed looking behind him, and several of the boys joined in.

"I much more prefer dis," I gestured flirtingly at his wind-swept blond locks, my fingers flicking some of his hair up lightly from his forehead. Some of the boys snickered, "But besides dat, you 'ave to let me try out. Esn't et a rule or someting?" I had spent the week working on my English hoping it would've improved, but my accent tore up my words like a knife to a cake.

Malfoy's face formed a disgusted sneer as he stepped away from my reach, "Absolutely not – go back to the dormitory. This isn't for girls." He crossed his arms and stood his ground as if blocking me from the rest of the team. He was noticeably much taller than me and I felt shadowed by his proximity.

I looked down and sighed. I could see my long lashes in my vision and knew I must've looked adorable and disappointed. I had drawn him in. I looked up swiftly, my eyes meeting his, and for a brief moment it seemed as though he was taken aback. His blue eyes glittered with a pinch of unreadable conflict.

"Fine," I said curtly as I turned and swung my shiny broom from my shoulders in one fluid, experienced move, and then I was gone.


	5. ﴾ You Win ﴿

"You requested to speak to me, sir?" I knocked on the black wooden door to Snape's classroom feeling apprehensive and nervous. Perhaps I was failing potions. Perhaps I had done something inappropriate (again) without realizing that there was some unmentioned, different British rule at Hogwarts. I winced at the idea of Snape being upset over misplaced laundry or a word choice that was entirely provocative by accident.

"Yes, close the door... come over here," he demanded in a bored tone. He hadn't even looked up from his notes to verify my identity. I supposed that my accent was sufficient enough clarification.

I stared for a moment before forcing myself to shut the bulky door, the echo of the unavoidable slam ringing around the room. Glass jars filled with questionable floating substances shook around the room from the impact. Snape dramatically rolled his eyes as a I approached.

"Dumbledore has been busy making some...new rules this year," his tone was clipped, as he stared down at me like a statue, arms behind his back. The only movement was his lips. You would think he was a frozen dementor, dripping in all black robes which dragged loosely behind his back. His eyes were hooded and cold, ruthless. His very essence was similar to the soul-sucking terror that the dementors imbued.

I held my breath. Rules. I'd broken another one surely. This couldn't be good. Maybe I was being punished unfairly for the ink accident. I could picture Malfoy running confidently to Snape, needing revenge, finding solace in his favorite teacher and the head of Slytherin. The head of my house as well, leaving me at the mercy of Snape's wrath. My father would not defend my school drama, he would only punish me when I was home at Christmas.

"The ink was an accident, not my fault-" I started blurting out but Snape snapped his finger loudly in the air to silence me. I winced from the bizarre gesture.

"I don't know about any...ink...incident," He narrowed his eyes briefly, "Although I will have to, make some inquiries... No, this pertains to Quidditch. It has, to my discomfort, been made clear to me that you, had expressed interest in joining the team and were blatantly rejected. Is that correct?" His expression was bland, but I sensed he was filled with curiosity and mockery.

I swallowed loudly and looked away, "Yes, sir. In France I was quite a, uh, er, competitive flyer. I have played many position.. positions." The pluralization of English was an unfortunate work in progress for me, and I despised the way it made me stutter.

"Hmm, is that so? I have been asked to remind Mr. Malfoy that, despite his personal values, there is now a strict rule that at least one female must play. Since you are the only one who, tried out, I would say it's a landslide win." He raised his eye brows, "Do not disappoint the house of Slytherin, Ms. Desrosiers. You are dismissed."

I fought to contain my smile until my back was turned and I was halfway across the room. Even though I wasn't sure what the position was, I could hardly wait to begin practicing in a weeks time. I would utterly crush it.

"Oh, and one more thing..." Snape's voice echoed around the room deeply, "Clean up that English. It won't due to have miscommunication in the game."

I nodded and headed to the great hall for dinner.

۞۞۞۞۞

Dinner arrived and I had brought my English translation textbook to the previous class, so I sat silently, some distance from the other eighth years and read while scooping haphazardly at Shepard's pie.

I was mouthing words carefully, trying hard not say anything embarrassing out loud and work up the kids around me. Slytherin's weren't exactly known for their kindness. Opportunities to strike were always taken up on, even by myself who was certainly no angel. And my French had become a big, red, throbbing bullseye in my house. It was why I tried to avoid speaking too often. This of course contrarily only delayed my English development further.

As I flipped through the pages I could hear the Gryffindor's chatting loudly about the next season of Quidditch. Ron Weasley was up on the bench by his knees leaning across the table arrogantly, yelling about the unbeatable skills of the various members of the team. Harry Potter sat beside him discussing practice times and strategies, ignoring the barbaric rain of food hitting the table from Ron's waving hands. The corner of my mouth twitched upwards as I lurked on their conversation; Gryffindor's were so proud and unrealistic sometimes. So... enthusiastic.

My blonde hair kept falling forward into my vision. I had left it loose and straight that day because it was cold and rainy. I was tucking it back for what seemed like the hundredth time when I heard clambering across from me. The bench was being ripped back at an unbelievable speed, and two second year Slytherins scrambled to stand before they were tossed.

"Think you're pretty slick, don't you?" Malfoy sneered at me from his new perch across the way. He was baring his teeth and his eyebrows were furrowed in his signature, resentful expression. His robes had collected to one side of him from sitting down with a whoosh, his hood bunched up against his neck. I stared with dull eyes so as not to give him the satisfaction.

I hadn't spoken to him in over a week since I had tried to join the Slytherin try outs at the pitch. My fascination with him at the beginning of the year was starting to falter the more we actually interacted. He was explosive and difficult, and had served as a distraction more than anything. Not that he wasn't still very easy on the eyes, but he needed to calm down before I could really see the value in his personality. I hadn't factored in him being that much of a hot head.

Two more boys were on either side of me just as rapidly; Warrington and Montague, both tall and broad. Warrington had his arm wrapped around my shoulders dragging me over towards him slightly. I lifted the English translation book with one hand and smacked it into his face flatly, and he cursed, releasing his grip.

Draco continued without any concern for his peer, "You want to learn a new English word?" He nodded his head mockingly, and gestured at the book in my hands as Montague rubbed his nose, "Dead. You're going to die on that field. You'll be dead. We don't have time to train you. I'll put Crabbe in a wig and skirt before I let you play with us."

I slanted my head to the side with a wicked grin, "Don' worry, I can 'andle it. Besides, you have to allow me." I said the words slower than I wanted to but felt proud of the somewhat well structured sentence. I gathered my things in a tidy pile preparing to leave, "And ef you don't believe I am capable, allow me to show you."

"She wants to show you, Draco," Warrington's eyebrows went up and he stuck his tongue out suggestively. I grimaced in revolt.

Malfoy's fist came down on the table hard, causing students from as far as three tables away to turn around. Food migrated off of nearby plates onto the solid wood surface. The Gryffindor's fell silent and turned to watch the show, "You're going to cost us the game. Some of us need this for our future careers." His blue eyes sparkled with his typical raged emotions. He really thought he could bully his way into getting whatever he wanted.

I looked down pretending to keep reading, shrugging. I was enjoying this much, much too much, "Speak to Snape ef you are so, hmm, what you say, irate?" I met his eyes with the sweetest smile I could and rested my head in the palm of my hand without breaking contact. He looked momentarily off guard, but then his resolve reappeared.

"Very well, I will then." He smirked and shoved my book down into my food without hesitation. I carefully plucked it out, wiping off as much potato as I could from the now compromised cover.

As they walked down the aisle I heard Montague whisper loudly to Draco, "You have to admit she's pretty smashing though. Wouldn't mind snogging her at an apres game night sometime." He gestured inappropriately in the air and made uncomfortable sexual noises.

Without looking away from the direction he was walking Draco extending his arm straight into Montague's shoulder, shoving him into the parallel table.

۞۞۞۞۞

Later that night I walked into my shared sleeping quarters with very dry eyes. I'd been studying till almost midnight at the library, hiding amongst the dark stacks of musty books. Learning to read in another language for the sole purpose of then learning a school topic was exhausting. I threw my heavy books onto my trunk and peeled off my robes. As I was taking my shoes off on the edge of the bed a piece of paper shaped like a crane floated in from god knows what direction. It landed delicately on my crossed knee while shaking its wings back under its sides.

I stared in suspicion at the animated paperwork as the girl next to me, whom I'd finally learned was named Hilda, clapped her hand over her mouth, "I know who made that!"

"Who?" I peered over at her like an owl.

"That's definitely from Draco Malfoy. He used to make them all the time and blow them at Potter during class." She replied in a high pitched tone.

"Shut up you old hags," Someone moaned from across the room, magically charming their drapes shut. Pansy, no doubt.

"Merde," I cursed. I slowly unraveled the paper bird which surprisingly didn't fight with me over its own destruction. The parchment was high quality, thick to the touch. There was a black, cursive "M" imprinted in the top right hand corner that looked like a family emblem.

Hilda leaned so far off of her bed I thought she might face plant, "Read it!" She whispered in anticipation.

I sighed and shut my eyes before turning to the spindly writing in the center. There wasn't much to read, it simply said,

You win.  
Meet me at the pitch, 7am.  
Tell anyone, and I'll kill you.

"Ha!" I exclaimed, then realized that I was being loud. Sssshhhh hissed the same girl angrily from across the room. I turned to Hilda with a low voice, "Seems dere will be a Slytherin girl playing Quidditch after all." 

She smiled with shock in her eyes.

The crane began ripping itself to tiny shreds of illegible paper, leaving a mess on my bed covers.


	6. ﴾ This Isn't The Circus ﴿

I was awake at 6am to prepare to meet Malfoy and it was a horrible experience. I had gone to bed closer to 1am and with hardly any sleep I was bitter making my way down to the pitch through a thick, cold fog. The Quidditch uniform at least provided some warmth against yesterday's rainy fallout. The stone steps were slimy but I once again intended to use the walk there as a means to warm up.

I had several theories as to why he'd picked such an unreasonably early time to train with me. To avoid being seen training me by other people, to punish me with the early start time, or perhaps because we both had no morning classes on Friday's immediately afterwards.

By the time I was nearing the bottom of the mossy hill my blond hair was soaked from the dew and air and I raised a gloved hand to smooth the long wisps at the front that weren't tied into the braids. I had taken the time to further alter my uniform that morning to get on Malfoy's nerves even more. It now hugged me in an even more flattering way that complimented my breasts and thin waist. My pants were basically in the shape of leggings instead of the baggy, unsightly trousers. The long green Slytherin robes fell silkily from my shoulders. I felt tired, but ready for action. I wanted to make it as hard as possible for these boys to truly despise me being on their team, starting with Malfoy.

When I reached the bottom however I couldn't see anyone. I walked to the center of the field and took in just how much fog was out there. It was difficult to see the stands and pillars such a short distance away. It was like being lost in a gray sea of mist.

It was 6:54 am. I guessed that it was fair to give him more time to arrive, trying to remove the growing fear that this had all been a joke to set me up while he was back at the dorms sleeping in late. I climbed onto my broom and tried pulling some tricks to pass the time. Standing on the broom handle while it hovered a few feet high. Performing a rescue by hanging from the handle with two, then one hand, then climbing back on. Riding side saddle. Doing a perfect backwards loop.

It reminded me of waiting around at my previous school for training to start. Most of the other girls had stood respectfully chatting to one another but I could never stay still. Not that they were any less vicious in the actual game, I was just... helplessly restless.

I pulled my broom up, arching my back into the next loop when suddenly a force smashed into my side which winded me. I gasped and fought not to lose my balance with little avail. Before I could hit the ground a hand grabbed my hood and then let me fall the final foot onto my face.

I sat up on my knees choking, and rubbing dirt from my face. I struggled to breath for a few moments before my pride could contain itself. I looked at Malfoy who was hovering above me tossing a bludger up and down. He had a demonic look on his face and he shook his head, "This isn't the circus, Desrosiers. You're cheap tricks won't help you out here. Get up."

"You - play dirty, Malfoy. I was - waiting." I wheezed, still recovering from the shocking impact. I would not puke in front of him.

"Precisely. Never assume you can let your guard down, Frenchie." He smirked and brought himself back down to the ground, dismantling from his black broom with ease, "This is Hogwarts. This is where champions are made. No more games, can you actually fly competitively?" He was taller than me by several inches and I stared up at him with a hard expression, feigning recovery. I was acutely aware that I probably had dirt all over my cheeks, while his face was smooth and clean, aristocratic. Cunning.

Even his hair took well to the moisture in the air. I probably looked like I'd just crawled out of a swamp.

I blew hair out of my eyes, "I am, quick... and how do you say, artistic? Creative? I can block most anything. Defensive is my strength."

He seemed contemplative for a moment, taking in my renovated uniform with a raised eyebrow. He sucked air through his nose as he inwardly contained his humored reaction. His eyes gleamed in a way that seemed menacing, and mocking. I tried to prevent myself from laughing out of the sheer discomfort of the situation. I had really hoped for a different reaction than that from him.

He sighed in aggravation, probably realizing he was wasting his own time by fighting with the inevitable requirement to let me play. I watched as his blue eyes went up to the sky, his sharp jawline accentuated by the posture of him hanging backwards in defeat. The silent pause was awkwardly long, "Well, you have a really good broom. At least you won't be an embarrassment in that department. Let's get you in the air and see what you can block." He reached his gloved hand across the space separating us and scuffed up the top of my hair.

It wasn't meant to be endearing. He laughed at the jolt in my eyes and took off.

After an hour of Malfoy chasing me to test my speed and throwing absolutely anything he could conjure at me, he finally blew a whistle using his fingers to signal he was done. The fog had nearly completely cleared and the sun was invading through with a soft yellow glow.

As much as he had made the morning difficult for me, I couldn't help but start to feel the same feeling of desire towards touching him that I'd had earlier in the year. Being chased around a sports field by him had certainly had its affect on me. I watched him hovering in place in the center of the field and decided against restraining myself. The opportunity was there to strike. He was looking away towards the castle with his hand above his eyes to block the newly radiating tendrils of sunlight when I collided into him causing both of us to spiral towards the ground about seven feet below.

We landed with a heavy thud, Malfoy on the bottom, groaning loudly. I quickly took advantage of his shock by straddling him and pinning his arms above his head. He looked up at me coughing and confused, not really fighting the pin down. My face was so close to his I could feel his ragged breathing against my skin. He smelled like pine needles and sweat. I leaned in close to his lips and whispered, "Never assume you can let your guard down, Malfoy." Our eyes locked and his eyebrows furrowed.

We stayed like that for about ten seconds, our breath mingling, before Malfoy finally had recovered from being winded. His expression quickly regained its power and he snarled as he broke his wrists free easily and pushed me off with both hands. He scrambled to his feet, wiping the dirt streaks from his bright green robes pointlessly. It looked more as though he were deepening the stains with the effort.

"You're such a freak!" He screamed, but this was the first time his voice had slightly faltered with emotions. It almost seemed he didn't believe his own words as he said them. He was evidently disheveled from the close encounter to being kissed. My mind explored the notion that he was much more of a virgin than I had anticipated, or maybe he really just wasn't physically attracted to me.

"What do you want from me?" He had morphed suddenly back into the leering, strong Malfoy I usually saw. His voice had deepened and concentrated, his eyes narrowing in on me. I stepped forward and he stepped back, maintaining at least four feet between us.

I stood where I was and he stood where he was, hand extended at his side threatening to grab his wand from his robes.

"Well? I know you can bloody speak, so speak!" He shouted, his lip curling up in agitation. He waited, staring, like he had all day. His lime green Quidditch robes blew softly in the wind around his ankles.

I shot him a flirty smile, winking, "Guess?" I pulled at one of the ties holding my braids together and let my long hair collapse down my back, then undid the other one.

He waited a moment and rolled his eyes away, "Oh, please," His response was injected with sarcasm. I stepped slowly towards him.

"And...," he gestured at my figure, "What is this? I don't remember our uniforms ever being so, tight?" He winced. His voice was weak in his throat and he tried to look skyward, "I don't know if Snape will allow it."

"Hmm, it's for you. Do you like?" I practically batted my eyelashes at him as I stepped closer again.

He weakly faked disgust on his face as he traced my body, his gaze getting caught on certain areas by accident. Then his eyes found mine and he shook his head back and forth while maintaining eye contact, "No, they have to be fixed. This will be...distracting."

I closed the gap between us honestly shocked that he hadn't fought to maintain it. My heart was pounding hard at this point as I looked up at him. He was looking away to the side with a bizarre expression on his face. Like he was afraid I would hit him.

"Oh distracting, because, you like dis?" I asked dreamily in my French tone.

He swallowed hard, "They can't stay like that, it's not appropriate. Who cares what I think." He said it in a clipped voice, sounding so small now, his voice almost a whisper. He continued to stare away from me, stealing small, uneasy glances out of the corners of his eyes.

"I do." I said in a singsong voice. I brought my hands slowly up to his chest and slid them around his neck. He froze, stiffening like a board. He sharply in-took air and held his breath. I pressed my body against his firmly.

Then as quickly as he had been paralyzed he snapped out of it and his gloves were around my wrists, pulling my hands down to his shoulders again, "No, I can't." He gazed down at me sternly and I knew my face was stricken with disappointment and confusion. His face was twisted and a new thought occurred to me that maybe he was actually gay.

"Okay," I tried to sound casual and lighthearted as I pulled my arms back, but they were stuck. He was gripping my wrists with active intention while still staring at me.

His hooded eyes dropped down to my neck, and my chest, lingering, "You need to stop this. I have other... commitments, to attend to."

Then his gaze moved over my face before I heard him whisper, "Fuck it," under his breath. He pulled me into him and his lips pushed into mine. I wrapped my arms around his neck again as he moved his hands down around my waist, crushing me against him. It was messy and wet, he stuck his tongue in my mouth playing with mine, his lips were so soft it felt like kissing a cloud. I ran my fingers up into his messy white blond hair. I could feel him pressing hard against my leg, growing rapidly. It was like being drunk, I couldn't get enough of his firm body and forest scent.

My hand slid down his robes and before I could get close to his pants he suddenly jerked away, "Okay, that's enough!" The depth of his threat sliced through the tension. He was breathing rapidly but trying to disguise it.

"Accio, Nimbus!" He yelled, his hand outstretched. The broom slapped into his glove obediently and then he was gone like smoke in the wind. I stood there touching my lips wondering if I had just taken a bludger to the head and imagined the whole event instead.


	7. ﴾ It's a Pureblood Thing ﴿

Saturday morning I woke up early again to my displeasure, unable to get back to sleep. I wandered down through the woods near Hagrid's cabin, sticking closely to the edge trying not to go more than five trees deep. I had been warned by several people that this forest was dangerous but on the contrary had also heard that first year students were sent into it as punishment. It couldn't possibly be that bad if eleven year old's were sent out there at night.

I wanted to find more plants, but they would likely have to go down in the common room. This, I thought, would be an improvement on the lack of living things there. Besides. Hilda had unfortunately started to object to the sheer volume of leafy green beings filling up the space on the window sill we shared and along the feet of our beds. Two days ago she had gotten out of bed and immediately yelped when a long vine had wrapped itself possessively around her dainty ankle. 

It was drizzling again, October was around the corner and already introducing it's personality. The leaves were lazily beginning to drift from trees creating colorful freckles on the landscape around the castle, except of course for the whomping willow which had been producing fewer and fewer leaves every year. McGonagall had vaguely suggested it's time was likely short during a transfiguration lesson.

After unearthing a few interesting looking plants I made my way back up the slopes with my muddy field bag over my shoulder. There was dirt under my fingernails and on my forehead from wiping at the water dripping off of my hood. I passed by the crooked stone shack that belonged to the large, hairy man named Hagrid. I had not met him in person, but Blaise told me that was unlikely now that he was not teaching anymore. Apparently there had been an incident with Malfoy in third year that had completely thrown him off of it. Smoke meandered from the thin chimney, filling the air with an acrid, familiar smell of fall.

He stood in his nearby garden with a shovel in his thick hands. He resembled more of a bear than a man. He didn't acknowledge me passing, but I watched him intently until I was forced to turn my head, as if when I looked away he would chase me down.

When I returned to the common room people were awake and roaming around in their weekend clothing. I was dripping wet and my hair was messy from being left down in the rain, my long periwinkle dress had mud along the hem. I walked to the back ignoring a few stares and carefully started conjuring shiny glass planters, transplanting my newfound plants, shrugging off my soaked robes on a nearby chair.

As I worked I became aware of some familiar voices. I glanced slowly over to the fireplace where Goyle, Crabbe, Montague and Malfoy sat watching the sleepy green flame dance. They were all wearing expensive looking sweaters, appropriately all a variety of green, and Malfoy and Montague had on dark black joggers. It was always entertaining to see how people chose to define themselves on their days off at Hogwarts.

Of course, most of my personal clothing still reflected my previous academy and was not green. It wouldn't be the first time I received unnerved stares or heard people uttering, "Ravenclaw..." under their breaths.

There was a small girl to Malfoy's right sitting on the couch with them whom I didn't recognize. She was dainty with dark brown hair almost as long as mine. Her eyes were blue, somewhat like Malfoy's and her expression had an equal air of aristocratic authority. She was wearing a black simple dress and staring up at him while he was speaking to Goyle. She was absolutely fixated on him and I felt a knot form in my stomach.

I finished potting my plants and set them up in various locations in the room, while trying hard not to stare at the intruder. Eventually I had nothing better to do than clean up for breakfast so I headed upstairs feeling uneasy and showered in the girls bathroom.

When I was combing through my damp hair she came into the bathroom and nearly startled me out of my new clean blue dress. It was one of my favorites, with long lacy arms and a large bow that tied it tightly around my waist. Comfortable, flowing, but classy. I had added gold serpent earrings to at least give some credit to my house.

She came to the sink to inspect her appearance, fixing her hair and twisting from side to side in her tight black dress. She noticed my unmasked glances over at her and her lips curled up in a sneering manner, "What are you looking at?" Her blue eyes were deep like blackberries and felt like bullets against my golden ones. Another girl in the bathroom snuck a curious glance over at her sharp tone.

"You are, pretty...," I muttered awkwardly, expecting that if I didn't compliment her she might remove my head. I fought the urge to roll my eyes.

She grinned and held her pale hand out to me and I shook it, "Astoria, Greengrass. I'm here to visit Draco. He and I are arranged to be married some day," Her voice was condescending. She turned back to the mirror, eyeing herself down again, "It's a pureblood thing. You may see me around here occasionally." She blinked to inspect her eyelashes. 

"Are you a pureblood, then? Not that I would recognize your last name - you sound, what, French?" She asked without looking away from the mirror. I didn't approve of the insulting way she had said French as though it were any lesser of a heritage than English. I realized she was probably a few years younger than us based on the way she spoke and held herself.

I nodded my head slowly with a faint, sly smile, "Yes darling, Desrosiers es a sacred Parisian family."

She stood back and eyed me, "Hmm, interesting." And then she was gone, and so was all of my hope of winning over Malfoy.

So that was the commitment he spoke of yesterday. I clapped a hand over my mouth shoving down a laugh as I stared at my own reflection in shock and hilarity. Astoria had unknowingly been friendly to me when I had just had my tongue is Draco's mouth yesterday. The girl next to me also looked amused but said nothing.

۞۞۞۞۞

At breakfast I tried to burrow into my book on Quidditch strategies. It was a latest edition, published that year with reference to games won by the Bulgarian's. I was eagerly pouring over the section on defensive maneuvers while effortlessly maintaining my distance from nearby conversations. No one seemed to want to bother me which was ideal.

"I saw the plants in the common room, looks good down there," An airy voice chirped and I looked up to see Hilda had plunked down next to me, wearing a silver scarf and grey knit sweater. She looked like she was preparing to take pumpkin picking pictures like the muggles were so fond of doing. Her hair was up high in a brown wavy pony tail.

"I assumed you were to prefer dat," I replied mildly. She nodded enthusiastically while gnawing on a piece of toast. On her other side Crabbe leaned back far into her shoulder, knocking her into me with the brute force. He was trying to back away from Goyle who was flicking bacon grease at him combatively. 

Hilda scowled from the grotesque display, "WILL you two grow up already?"

While watching, I accidentally caught sight of Draco and Astoria down the line of the table. Pansy who was across from them was also watching out of the corners of her eyes, which was far more obvious than she probably understood. Astoria was speaking vivaciously to Malfoy about a Christmas trip her family was planning, her hands gripping his left arm with intensity. He wasn't making eye contact with her and appeared to not even be listening. He was stirring porridge around in a small bowl with an aggravated mood across his face. It resembled the scene of a small animal kept in a wire cage in a child's bedroom. He looked trapped and irritated by her bubbly words. He seemed to sense my gaze because he looked up and narrowed his eyes at my intrusion of their privacy and I quickly looked away, back at my breakfast and book. I wondered if Pansy had been given the same glare.

A soft tap on my shoulder and the sound of Hilda gasping quietly drew my attention away from my book. All of the Slytherin's in our year were looking behind me with intensity. I turned to see a red and gold sweater with a large 'H' sewn into it.

Harry Potter was standing there looking oddly like he had been hit with a silencing charm. I watched for a few moments while he searched for his voice, "H-hi, uh, Madeleine, was it?" I felt my eyes widen; no one ever called me by my first name. I had assumed practically no one even knew it at that point. 

I nodded and stared, unsure of what to say. I knew he had recently broken off a relationship with a small, ginger-haired girl over the summer and I wondered where this was going. 

"Great. Look, I was wondering, would you maybe want to join me at Hogsmeade next weekend? With-with friends, of course." He ran a hand over the back of his neck shyly, "Since you couldn't go last year because your owl was so late getting back with your permission."

I grinned a sly grin, cocked my head to the side, leaning forward on my arms against the table. I loved to flirt, especially when it was in front of Malfoy with his dumb bride-to-be, and especially with the Harry Potter, who also was his own unique version of handsome, "I would not miss et," I reassured him. I touched his arm gently for added effect and his blue eyes glittered.

"Super. I'll s-see you then." He stuttered but his smile was big and drunken. He walked off and the table was eerily silent. We watched as he sat back down across from Hermione Granger who kept stealing glances at me and smiling. 

I looked around my own table with a stern face; the Slytherins all appeared either shocked or disgusted with me for having agreed to spend time with a Gryffindor. Pansy was the only one snorting with laughter.

"Oh, get over et," I said roughly, standing to leave. I saw Malfoy's unblinking eyes trail after me, wide and warning. His lip was curled in the most fabulous, irritated version I had seen yet. Astoria was already ranting again, completely unaware of the house reputations in Hogwarts. I held his gaze as I passed by and then slipped out of the great hall to go check on my plants.


	8. ﴾ Do You Love Her? ﴿

The next week dragged by slowly, with agonizingly long days. I worked myself to the bone by staying up late in the library, feeling the pressure of trying to learn complex new topics alongside reducing my language barrier. Trelawney had told me at the start of the school week, in a blithering, whimpering voice, that she was concerned about my ability to pass her class. I'd felt a stab of fear. I had already read one of the two divination books that were assigned to our year; clearly my language had not been up to par at the time. 

Snow was falling slowly over the castle in thin, unambitious sheets, only to melt away every few days again. It was still early into the cold season, nevertheless - the library had a way of reflecting the temperature outside. I tended to hide in the stacks where other people wouldn't recognize me or bother me despite how dark it was in the aisles. I had started bringing large blankets from my bed using a shrinking charm, and illuminating my reading with the tip of my wand. Sometimes books would fall randomly on my head from the tall shelves and I attributed it to magical energy being pent up in the forgotten texts.

In the middle of the week there was loud chatter at a table on the other side of one of the aisles I was working in. I stood up sighing begrudgingly, realizing I would need to move to a quieter lane. As I was shrinking my blanket down I became aware of my name being dropped, "...and she's on the Slytherin Quidditch team now did ya hear that? Malfoy must be furious. Probably why Potter asked her to join him to Hogsmeade. Flirting with the enemy, an all that." The voice was Irish in nature and I recognized it as belonging to a boy named Finnigan.

I peered through the books, pushing some aside enough to gain a visual. Dust plumed up into the air tickling my nose and I shoved it into my robe to stifle a sneeze.

Dean Thomas was adjusting his tie to be looser around his neck, "Well, I don't know much about that. Harry did say he thought she had an interesting aura about her, probably genuinely fancies her. Everyone does in a way, but she's just... so weird. Potter's weird. Makes sense."

Seamus sat down and bit into an apple with little grace. He spat his sentence through his full mouth, "Eh, well let's just hope Malfoy's got the same weakness. You heard about him foolin' 'round with her in potions class on first day," he took another messy bite and opened a book as Dean flinched away from Seamus' spray radius, "Finally give that git a good kick in the gut if she does end up with Potter. Could take apart the whole Slytherin team if he goes down."

"Hmm..." Dean seemed to be tuning out the conversation as he rolled out parchment.

Seamus was clearly not about to drop it, and his unstable voice volume shot back into the calm atmosphere of the study section like a bomb, "Oi believe Malfoy's got a thing for her, seen him watchin' her float 'round in her pretty little purple dresses. Blimey, reminds us all a that Triwizard Tournament four years ago and those French girls driftin' about. Reckon' he thenks he's so sneaky with his beady little eyes." Dean stared up at Seamus with a tired look. At that moment a book fell from above me and launched itself squarely into my skull. I closed a hand over my mouth and gritted my teeth through the painful impact, squeezing my eyes shut to avoid being noisy.

"He just seems angry all the time, "Dean was saying nonchalantly, "The guy scares me. She's better off with Potter. And," he stared up at Seamus, "I'd say you were jealous."

I had heard enough. I turned around and slithered away through the stacks of books. As I was walking out I noticed Crabbe and Goyle sitting near the entrance to the library and I shot them a strange look. They just stared with empty eyes. It was bizarre to see them in the library, ever.

I collided into a mass of green robes and looked up to see Minerva McGonagall, her spectacles glinting down at me in the fire light of the dull room. She said nothing as I apologized and moved quickly out of the library.

۞۞۞۞۞

Friday night, Hilda pinched my shoulder as I was tending to a Dragonweed flower in a shiny black pot in the common room. I stood up, straightening my soft blue dress and teal silk robes. I was dressed in my weekend attire which was delicate and reflective of the culture along the warm, French Mediterranean coast. I had been mildly home sick that week after receiving a letter from my family with a moving picture. My brother had just made the Herbology team at his school and was dressed up for their first competition. He was holding a large, unusual looking hybrid plant in his arms that he had probably grown himself, his platinum hair hung straight to his shoulders.

"I've got a surprise for you," Hilda was grinning devilishly and I felt myself match her expression, curiosity brimming. We had been growing closer and closer the past few weeks, discovering that both of us were mischievous and goofy.

"What would you 'ave, hmm?" I could feel some of the boys sitting at the fire glancing over at us but I blurred my peripherals incase I accidentally caught Malfoy's eye. I had been let down by meeting Astoria, my heart had even ached slightly the first night. It was a wake up call, and somehow, I knew he could also sense my change in interest. It felt like he was staring at me when I wasn't looking all week, but I never dared check out of pride and self control.

Hilda leaned in closer to me and whispered in my ear, "I got muggle alcohol. The Weasley's brought some in and were selling it in the courtyard, just so happened to overhear. It's called gin, and it's supposed to make you feel funny and brave." She leaned back and raised her eyebrows at me. I nodded my head yes and we scurried up the dungeon hallway away from the Slytherin dormitories.

She was dragging me by the hand and we were laughing. I was trying not to slide in my tiny slippers under my long dress. She pulled me into one of Filch's broom cupboards and we downed more shots, cringing and gasping at the shocking taste. She held out the half full bottle and eyed how much we'd already consumed through squinty eyes. It was a lot. The jug was nearly the size of a milk bottle. Magical persons must have some sort of tolerance to it that muggles do not, I mused. I had seen drunk, stumbling muggles in the streets of France and it was shocking how little it took for them to fall on their faces and go to sleep in public.

"It's like chewing on a very sour tree," Hilda's eyes were watering, but she was laughing nonetheless. I giggled back and spun her around in an odd dance, brooms clattering around us.

When we opened the door the hallway was virtually quiet. No one seemed to question our entrance from the closet. People were mainly headed to their dorms for weekend gatherings and had their own plans on their minds. 

I spotted Ron walking alone and jumped uncontrollably, pulling on Hilda, "We 'ave to speak with 'im!" I ran over to Ron, "Oh mon dieu! Ronald!"

He looked up with a bemused look on his face, "Oh damn, my brother's gave you two booz did they?" He was clearly a bit nervous but kept a friendly composure, his eyes were scanning skeptically at our difficulty standing still.

"Can you tell, 'arry Potter, I am excited to see 'im tomorrow," I gushed in a silly tone and Hilda laughed. My long hair had escaped my braids from earlier and was flying in front of my face.

"Sure," Ron looked at me, uneasy with our drunken presence, "I bet he'll be ecstatic to know your so keen about it. Anyways, I have to go...ladies..." He dismissed himself, looking back once to laugh to himself at the sight of our dancing. Hilda was swinging the jug around and I had to force her to shrink it back into her robe pockets.

When we arrived back in the Slytherin common room after running around the castle for an hour and half there were games going on around the fire place: about twenty people had crammed themselves into the tiny space for socializing. Hilda and I burst through the door and then clapped our hands over our mouths to prevent our giggling from attracting too much attention. We were normally very quiet around others and our current behavior was quite out of character.

It seemed like a lost cause as everyone was now staring at us in confusion, including Malfoy who was leaning over Blaise arguing about a chess position. I could feel my face get even redder than it already was when he furrowed his brows at me as if to decipher what was wrong with me. Hilda smacked my wrist to distract me and mouthed no.

"Come hang out, girls," Pansy said, eyeing us. She was sitting with Montague and Warrington and had a devilish look on her smug face.

"In a second," Hilda burped and grabbed my hand. We made our way to the girls lavatory noticing ourselves for the first time since we'd become inebriated. I looked at myself, with my pastel flowing gowns and long platinum hair waving down to my waist. Hilda looked me over, "You look like you're from a commune in Sweden! But it's really pretty. You -" she hiccupped and hugged me, "- are so pretty. And so am I."

"Absolutely," I hugged her back. Both of our cheeks were rosy and our eyes were squinty. We took more shots while still hugging and my vision started to blur noticeably.

There was a loud bang and the doorway swung hard on it's ancient creaky hinges. We both looked up at Malfoy who was leaning in the door frame with an evil glare, "If you two are done snogging, I need to speak with my Keeper in private."

Hilda giggled, "Noo, nO No," She said in a very drunken tone, her words coming out in quirky highs and lows. I wanted to cover my eyes and look away as she swung the jug around and Malfoy made a disdained face. "You can leave her be until your precious practice. She doesn't want to be alone with you." The jug pivoted dangerously close to Malfoy's nose and he swung his head back with a snarl.

"Doubt she'll even make it tomorrow if you two don't stop fucking around with that-" he eyed the nondescript jug, "-whatever the hell that crap is."

Oh, merde... Tomorrow was our first official quidditch practice as a team. I had never been that drunk before and was suddenly aware that tomorrow was going to be really rough, between quidditch and then meeting up with the Gryffindor's at Hogsmeade...

"It's okay, Hilda. I will speak wit 'im," I stated, trying to keep my voice level. 

"Ugh, god, okAY," She said hugging me one last time, the jug smashing into the back of my head with a crack. I winced. She left the room, prodding Malfoy hard in the chest, a look of suspicion on her tiny face and he swatted her off of him with disgust.

I went to the sink to soak my face with water and heard the door slam shut. He clicked the lock and I spun around. He hadn't advanced from the door, he was just leaning there, looking me up and down with disappointment, "Well, now that you're good and drunk I hope that you have a plan for being up bright and early." He was staring through my soul, his arms crossed. I took in his black hoodie and joggers, and soft messy blond hair. He looked like he belonged in a college soccer team.

I just sighed and rubbed my forehead. It would be fine, I could chug water and go to bed immediately. It was only 9pm. His voice cut through my growing headache once again, and I blinked away how blurry he was starting to look, "You idiot," he hissed angrily, "You know the others don't approve of you playing on the team. I vouched for your speed and agility. I won't be so generous again, since you clearly don't take this seriously." 

He looked away, his face tight and jaw clenching, "It's bad enough you're meddling with the likes of Potter." He spat the last word with so much venom I inhaled sharply. I stared at him in his mysterious state, but couldn't really think logically enough to determine what signals he was sending. I had heard that the two never got along, but hadn't been around to witness anything foundational besides classroom bickering. 

"Leave 'arry out of dis," I softly managed to say, holding back the urge to burp. I swayed and clung to the edge of the green tiled counter. The last few shots Hilda and I had taken were hitting me all at once like a hail storm. I saw Malfoy's hand twitch forward a few inches reflexively to catch me, before I stabled myself and he retracted it into his cold posture once more. I heard him whisper Harry with disgust, as though he had never heard the boy's first name said out loud before.

"You meddle with - Greenass," I stated, before realizing I had pronounced her name wrong and burst out laughing. The drunkenness could not contain itself any longer and I just kept laughing loudly and obnoxiously at the sight of his serious face and raised eyebrow. He snorted at my odd mannerisms, but didn't try to defend her. 

"Okay, that's enough, you're not embarrassing me tomorrow." He stepped forward and I stumbled backwards instinctively, still tearing up from the silly comment I had just made. My long blue dress caught under my back foot and I slipped. He took two large strides and grabbed my wrist quickly but it wasn't enough to stop the momentum. We toppled backwards and he landed on me with another snarl.

"We 'ave to stop meeting like dis," I laughed more and ignored the pain in my head from hitting the tiled floor. I was so drunk I wrapped my arms around his waste as he tried to push up off of me with both hands. I was like a sea monster holding him down. 

He finally stopped pushing and just glared down at me. I could feel one of his legs between mine and for a fleeting moment I thought he might knee me in the crotch for his freedom. 

"Let go." He demanded with a steady voice, staring into my eyes with his grey-blue orbs. Our faces were so close I could smell his breath as it tickled my nose. I could also smell my boozy breath radiating between us, realizing it was probably horrible for him. He was irritated, and I laughed again tilting my head back and gazing down at him through hooded eyes.

"Madeleine, you have to go to bed now." He said as though he were my parent. There was a hint of familiar unease creeping into his voice, similar to the one I had heard on the quidditch pitch.

"Oh, first names now?" I tugged him closer by wrapping my free leg around him. I now had three limbs around him like some kind of nightmare octopus dragging him to his death.

"Fuck, stop." He lifted his open palm and slammed it back down beside my face, the hood from the black hoodie was hanging against the back of his head. In my inebriated state I didn't even flinch. I just bit my lower lip teasingly.

"Tell me about Astoria, do you love her?" My eyes were fixed on his expression, waiting for any hints.

He closed his eyes and sighed. He spoke without looking at me, "Would it even matter?" He sounded defeated, and my heart suddenly dropped a note. 

"Oh non, you are not 'appy, are you?" I squeezed him in my arms and he tensed, trying to maintain his push away from me.   
"Why are you like this, ugh," He slowly gave up straining his arms and laid down completely on me, his hard body pushing against me, "Do you want us to lay like this all night?" His blond hair was pushed up against the side of my face, his face in my neck. I could feel the sensation of his breath against my jawline and the tip of his pointy nose against my cheek. I tightened my hold on him, like a child with an oversized teddy bear at the zoo. I smiled and burrowed my face into his hair.

"I would," I said with a silly tone into his hair, "You love her or non?" Now that he was flattened against me I could feel his heart starting to race, and something else against my upper thigh, hard.

My eyes widened and I inhaled deeply. He was a man after all, this wouldn't be easy for any boy to avoid happening. Still, it gave him an oddly human quality that seemed all too rare to the rest of the world. 

"You're...really drunk, Madeleine," his voice was raspy now, in my ear, "Just go to bed. You can talk to me tomorrow. When you get up on time, like we discussed."

I could feel his hardness throbbing against me and his breathing was coming out louder. His heart was racing against my chest through my thin dress. It was instinctual the way I turned my head towards his and our lips met in the heat of our breath. He kissed me back in equal passion, his tongue sliding through my lips with the urgency of sexual starvation. I felt him run his hand down my side, his thumb barely grazing over my left breast. He twisted his hand between us and began bunching up my long dress until he got to the bottom and brought his fingers up along the inside of my bare thigh. He was obviously fighting to not grind against my leg.

He kept kissing me with so much passion that I no longer felt compelled to glue him down. I ran one hand down his chest slowly and the other one up his neck.

I gasped against his lips as his fingers slid between my legs and curled into my panties, touching my bare skin teasingly. He froze from my reaction, as though we had both been drunk and he was suddenly sober to the situation. I felt his eyes fly open and he pulled away.

"Okay, you're drunk." Was all he said as he opportunistically pushed out of my arms. He pulled my to a standing position in one quick motion and my head spun from the change in posture, "You need to chug as much water as you can and go to bed. Do you understand me? 7am."

He straightened his hoodie and left me to stare into my own drunken reflection. I still felt light headed and high from his smell and touch. 

When I got to my room, Hilda was passed out face down in her bed without any covers. I slid into my own and was out like a light.


	9. ﴾ Do You Think He Knows? ﴿

Despite my incessant attempts at sobering up the night before, the morning of Saturday was harsh and unforgiving. After Malfoy left the girls lavatory, I had stuck my head below the faucet and drank until my stomach hurt. When I re-emerged into the common room he was gone, as well as half of the students. Goyle, Crabbe, and Warrington made sure to shout snide remarks about what had occurred in the privacy of the bathroom. Pansy only shot daggers of hatred in my direction.

I sat on the edge of my bed wincing at 6am. Hilda looked like she hadn't even moved from the night before - as though she might've drowned in her pillow. I cautiously poked my foot at her until she groaned and turned over.

After fixing my Quidditch uniform to look less tight as per Draco's concerns, I stepped out of the castle and into the frosty October air. There was a few inches of snow on the ground and icy air nipped at my cheeks instantly. I whirled the green scarf I had on around my lower face and began my warm up walk.

The journey was spent trying to recall bits and pieces of the night before. My memory was totally clear up until the last few shots Hilda and I had taken and then Malfoy had barged in. After that it was an odd mixture of Malfoy looking very angry and then us on the floor, something else happening, him bunching up my dress...and then. Nothing. Had we?

I scrunched up my face and sighed into the hangover.

"Wait up, Madeleine!" A light hearted voice called from behind me. I spun to see Harry hopping down the steps behind me and dressed in thick clothing. He reached me and smiled, waving his hand awkwardly.

"Hi. I heard that the Slytherin practice was today and I know...I don't know you that well...but, I know, Malfoy. He can be cruel. You're the only girl so, I thought I would come for some, uh, moral support." His round glasses began to fog with his rambling and he plucked them off his face to rub them with his jacket.

I grinned back at him, an odd sort of relief flooding over me, "Brilliant, as you English would say!"

"Are you ready?" He queried as we began walking slowly down side by side.

I squinted, "I believe, yes. I used to play in France. But, alas, I 'ad much of this gin substance..." I trailed off, my hand going to my forehead.

Harry's eyebrows shot up and he looked amused, "Had ourselves a little midnight fun in the Slytherin house, did we?" The question was airy, but a hint of curiosity suggested that he was wondering what kind of fun exactly. I swallowed, knowing exactly what kind of fun had happened.

Harry was handsome and kind, gentle, but strong. His warm soul beside mine felt comforting. He had a brightness is his walk and in his words, unlike Malfoy who was damp and heavy. And explicitly unavailable, I thought to myself, considering he was practically engaged to that Astoria girl.

"You know, you'll do great," he was saying with encouragement, his breath coming out as a white cloud, "Malfoy will make a fuss that I'm there but I don't care. Don't worry about that."

I smiled at him sweetly and felt his fingers brush against my glove momentarily.

We reached the bottom of the hill where a cluster of green robes and black brooms were waiting. Montague was the first to spot us as he was stretching in our direction, "Ah, look what the trolls dragged in." He sneered at Harry, baring his terribly maintained teeth.

Malfoy turned on his heal up the hill and his face contorted violently as though it were electronically programmed to change in a split second, "Seriously, Potter? You think my players need escorts to their practices?" He walked up to us and jabbed his gloved finger into Harry's shoulder. Harry stepped back once but stood strongly against it.

"Shut it, Malfoy. I don't give a damn about you. I'm here to support her, and then we're leaving right afterwards." He imbued confidence and bravery, but his voice had lowered several octaves and there was a hint of warning in it.

Malfoy had inched as close to Harry as possible, towering over him. They seemed to be having a staring competition but not in any way that suggested someone would laugh if they lost.

"Okay, come now. We 'ave to practice," I begged in my now seemingly tiny voice while reaching my arms straight between them and prying them apart.

Harry obliged instantly and walked away towards the stands, "Good luck." He lifted his arm slightly towards me and turned.

Malfoy however had apparently grown roots into the ground. His arm snapped up and grasped mine pulling me closer, his face looked callous, "We can't have Potter at our practices. He's on the enemy team, your enemy team," His blue eyes glittered in the morning sun as he leaned towards me, "Don't, let it happen, again. Keep your pathetic relationship to yourself."

"Likewise," I spat. His eyes flashed with surprise.

He dropped my hand like it was diseased and walked back to the group.

The practice itself was hardly as rough as I'd expected. Malfoy had evidently spoken with the other boys about strict professionalism, meaning none of the bullying I was prepared for actually occurred. I only missed one goal, preventing a total of nine shots from the acting chasers before Malfoy caught the golden snitch. Although I had bizarre methods of getting the job done, no one seemed to object to my broom tricks. At one point I dropped behind the center ring, grabbed the top of the ring and swung through, effectively smashing the oncoming bludger back into Warrington who nearly toppled off his broom. Harry had screamed out loud at this achievement, clapping obnoxiously while the only other person in the stands, Snape, had scowled at him.

When we were back on the ground I untied my braids and my blonde waves unfurled in the now bright sun. I felt the boys eyeing me with mixed feelings as they loosened their tight boots.

Malfoy's hand clamped down on my shoulder, and he spun me around, smirking, "I want to see that hoop move in our first game. My father says the Hollyhead Harpies usually scout early on in the season. They typically pick girls. Something to think about." He studied my face for a second before he noticed Harry approaching, rolled his eyes and left.

"Absolutely phenomenal! I don't think I've ever seen a girl play like that!" Harry's hands were on his head and his eyes wide. He hugged me tightly and I heard Warrington fake a retching sound in the background.

I pulled back holding one arm with the other sheepishly and bit my lip, "Thanks, 'arry." I shrugged, "I need to get changed though before we actually leave for 'ogsmeade. Want to meet me in an 'our at de gate?"

"Yeah, that sounds great." He smiled and left up the path while we cleaned up.

When the last bludger had been strapped into the chest, Malfoy pulled out the snitch from his robes and looked up at its shiny exoskeleton before gracefully locking it in, "Okay, you're all dismissed."

I grabbed my broom. "Not you, Desrosiers. You're helping me carry up the trunk." I turned to him and he had a crooked grin on his face, "Rite of Passage, newbie."

"Sure," I shrugged, and strapped my golden broom across my back. I grabbed one side while he took the other. The snow crunched under our boots as we lugged the heavy chest up the hill.

"Do you think he knows?" Malfoy's beguiling tone cut through the noise of our heavy breathing.

"What?" I groaned, rebalancing my fingers in my handle, "Who knows what?"

He grinned sideways at me, "Harry. Does he know about our little, moments?" I didn't say anything, just stared ahead at each coming step.

"Oh come on," He kept going in a snide voice. I sensed he was enjoying me being chained to carrying a chest up a giant hill with him, "Would be hilarious wouldn't it, if someone were to let that information slip. I'd pay $100 galleons just to see his reaction."

"Can't we just lift, uh, levitate it?" I gestured at the trunk, trying to remember the English term for the charm.

"Yeah, sure we could. But it's newbies job to carry it at least once with the Captain. You didn't answer my question." He pulled backwards on the trunk and I looked down the hill, appalled at my arm being yanked so hard.

"Obviously, no, 'arry is unaware," I said in a strained voice, "is Astoria aware?" I retorted.

He looked mesmerized with my discomfort and shrugged, "Sure tell her, see if I care. Perhaps it would remove her repugnant companionship from my future." His eyes looked up at me stained with cruelty.

"Why don't you remove de girl yourself?" I asked, dropping my side of the trunk causing Malfoy's arm to jerk down towards the ground. He let the trunk slide a few feet on its own with a growl, "Just go be miserable on your own." I said.

"You wouldn't know anything about that kind of commitment would you?" He strode up to me so fast I took a step back to avoid an imminent collision, "You wouldn't understand what my bloodline commands from a single heir to a pure blood estate." His hands wrapped around my shoulders in an unfriendly manner.

We stared at each other for a few moments before he let go of his grip. "Wingardium Leviosa" he commanded and the abandoned trunk levitated obediently, "Get out of my sight." He yelled and I turned and fled up the pathway for a few meters before ripping my broom off of my back mid run and taking off.

۞۞۞۞۞

I didn't waste anytime changing into my Hogsmeade outfit. Grabbing a bag, I fled the Slytherin common room. I fought back the urge to cry even though I couldn't quite explain it. Maybe it was the obvious pain in Malfoy's eyes when he was explaining his marital and family cage. He seemed so angry and alone, and I knew I'd only made it worse. At least before I'd started making plays at him he seemed to have accepted his fate with some sense of calm.

Even though it would be hard now that we had broken the physical seal, I made myself a promise to try and leave it alone. He didn't need me making it any harder by getting in the way. He'd made that painfully clear that day.

Harry, Ron, Luna, Hermione and Neville stood at the gate pacing and chatting when I reached it. They all gave me faint smiles and we headed off, Harry walking closely to me. I still felt a deep sadness in my heart as the group made their way down towards the small village on foot. It was as though Malfoy had spread his sadness to my own heart when he'd grabbed me earlier.

"Saw someone with your name at the Herbology Competition this week," Neville's voice cut through my deep concentration and I returned to reality, "Looked like you too."

"My brother, Éduin," I smiled back. "We're both keen on dat subject but 'e's, er, stronger."

"You could make a great healer with that kind of thinking," Hermione gazed at me wistfully.

Ron sighed, "Or cook."

"No Ronald, that's ridiculous," Hermione rolled her eyes, "Herbs as a food source and Herbology as a faction of magical study are broadly tiered."

Harry snickered and Ron huffed, "Right, of course. That's what I meant."

"I agree with Hermione..." Luna's singsong voice floated in the air, giving no one a direct sense of whom she was speaking to, "I think you'd be a great healer. You've already begun; someone in your life has latched onto you for healing," She turned to face me, "That is, if you'll let them."

۞۞۞۞۞

In the village I didn't say much as usual. My mind was preoccupied with Luna's words. The streets were loud and crowded, people jamming into each other as they fought to gain access to small, quaint shops. Harry took me by the hand to guide me, "I'll bring you to my favorite shop, you'll love it."

I let him eagerly name everything we passed, the light in his eyes shown. He was in love with the wizarding world in all aspects, that much could be deducted.

"Here - Quantum Quidditch." He grinned up at the giant hovering snitch, slowly rotating at an angle like a planet above the shop, "It's fairly new - all kinds of crazy stuff."

I beamed at him.

"Right, c'mon," he waited for me to enter the shop first.

It was surprisingly bright for a Wizarding shop. My jaw dropped. There was everything Quidditch related; the latest brooms circling in vertical displays, gloves, uniforms, goggles, fan jerseys, bludgers and snitches, cases for equipment. Even candy shaped like snitches on lollipop sticks, squirming to fly away in their glass case.

"And these," Harry had my hand again bringing me over to a display, "Are what you should get for your game." He pointed at a case with white gloves floating in the center. They were so bright I felt compelled to narrow my eyes slightly.

"They look - alike to de clouds," I pointed upwards to the ceiling pointlessly, "So beautiful."

"I know," Harry paused, hovering on my face, "But not just beautiful. Practical. See they're magnetic. They keep you glued to your broom so no one can knock you off. It's genius!"

I was impressed needless to say. I put my hands on the glass and peered at all the details. They were exquisite, dragonshide or something of equal caliber, but I couldn't justify the price.

"Thank you, for bringing me to see," I squeezed his hand.

"Yeah, of course," he nodded. I could see he had something else on his mind too, but then he suddenly squinted over my shoulder inquisitorially.

I turned but saw nothing unusual, in the shops or the busy street. "I thought I saw...nothing. It's nothing." Harry said, with a hollow voice.


	10. ﴾ Among Other Things ﴿

Several weeks passed without a notable interaction with Malfoy. The first Quidditch game came and passed uneventfully, and the Slytherin common room had been quiet under the pressure of the imminent pre-holiday exams.

I had been processing the altercation for some time now. My guilt and frustrations had boiled down into a well-conceived notion that both of us were probably toxic for each other. My wanton lust for his body coupled with his desperate need to have any other connection besides with Astoria was bound to end in flames. Neither of us seemed to be logically chasing each other, instead more to a means of shallow gratification. Despite Luna's words, that were fairly clear regarding my role as a healer, I was still certain that space was the best choice. He also seemed to be on the same page because he had ostensibly avoided me like the plague. Even when I had dared to glance at him in classes his eyes had been glued to the teacher without a flinch.

It was October 31st; Hallows Eve. My favourite holiday. It was also perfectly a Saturday, and the girls Slytherin bathroom was buzzing with activity. Beautiful, terrifying females clustered together in front of the mirrors as they dressed up festively. There was a myriad of chosen disguises, including magical creatures and famed wizards. One girl had gone so far as to dress up like Peeves in an arguably sexual, and disturbing fashion.

I had chosen a dragon. My face and neck absolutely covered in icy, glittering decor. My long blond hair cascaded around my shoulders, tied only in one place as a thin braid that framed the left side of my face. It had taken 20 minutes alone just to draw the scales on. Darned appropriately over my slim physique was a white-blue dress, long, tight, with full arms and an open back, and with pointed shoulders. The energy from my gait alone was sheer power.

Hilda sighed and turned to me in admiration, "Well, aren't we a couple of rockets." Her sly grin had me returning the gesture. She had dressed as a Slytherin Quidditch player, taking my uniform and madly correcting it to look quite perversely sexual. I had granted her the notion when I'd explained to her in secret my first practice session alone with Malfoy. Her wavy brown hair was down for once, and her blue eyes were shadowed heavily by silver and green.

"I'm excited for tonight," she purred while straightening her gloves on her arms, "the Slytherin Halloween party is elite every year. Gryffindor's practically lose their minds to get invited. Not that they would admit it. Are you bringing Potter?" She glanced towards me with a raised eyebrow.

I watched as my mirror reflection twitched. I hadn't even considered it. It was incredibly rare to see a Gryffindor at the Halloween party in the dungeons. I'd spent a decent amount of time with him over the past few weeks, studying, chatting... he was enamored with me in a way I hadn't experienced before. It was gentle, and careful, and limitless. I had become acquainted with his close friends, who really weren't that insufferable. Although, they seemed to frequently drop hints of guidance and wisdom in my direction like I was a lost dog. Suffice to say I had mastered the art of stifling eye rolls.

One day in the great hall he'd brushed my cheek gently and for a moment I'd thought he was going to kiss me in front of the whole student body, but he then claimed to have just noticed a stray eyelash. The sheer embarrassment of the assumption had caused me to leave the hall abruptly and my lunch had remained entirely untouched.

I studied my highly decorated reflection. I was a dragon. I didn't need to feel any embarrassment and I didn't need to hold back on basic human desires. I would invite Potter, and maybe more than just his presence would be requested, "Mmm, yes I think 'e'll do as a good date," I bit my lip in a saucy grin and glanced at Hilda.

"I got more gin for tonight," She confirmed as she bounced in a dance, excited and gloriously reckless.

"Great, because we all want to see you two fall on your faces before the party even starts. That muggle garbage is putrid," Pansy snorted from a few spots down the line. Other girls laughed in appreciation of the comment. She had a set of demonic horns locked onto her head and a bright red dress. It was the first time I'd noticed her body was competitively fit. I pursed my lips to prevent beginning an argument on the basis of her costume being referenced from a muggle religious system.

It was a fair point she'd made though, as the last time Hilda and I drank we'd both been in the running to face plant. Tonight would be different, though, now that we were experienced with the intoxicant. Or at least, the goal would be to handle it with more grace.  
۞۞۞۞۞

Breakfast had been quite interesting. Many students, the vast majority in fact, were dressed up for the holiday. Magical charms drifted listlessly around the room, representing different costumes across the space. I ducked as a bat flew towards my head and just barely skimmed my hairline, drawn back towards the Ravenclaw table by a young warlock dressed as a vampire.

It was no surprise to see that most of the upper year Slytherin boys had no costumes on whatsoever. Malfoy was once again stirring porridge in circles and trying to ignore the conversation at hand. His long blond hair wasn't slicked as usual and hung low over his face, almost covering his eyes completely.

I sat to the left of Goyle who was busy unwrapping and consuming as many candies as possible in a race against Crabbe seated across from us. It felt like an unspoken assumption amongst everyone in their vicinity that this would end with sickness from the concerned glances. Malfoy sent a low, disgusted glare at the growing heap of wrappers blowing towards his food. His had to keep moving his right arm to avoid the offensive pile of plastic that Crabbe was carelessly discarding between them.

My heart dropped when my eyes met Zabini's cold, dark brooding glare, leaning forward from the other side of Malfoy. He had zeroed in on me watching Malfoy with defensive suspicion. He carefully shook his head at me without giving away the interaction between us, but the message was clear; no.

I looked away quickly towards my breakfast with a sinking feeling. I knew I'd left things off with Malfoy quite negatively. He had clearly been upset from the argument and from feeling forced to show his vulnerability in such hostility. What Zabini didn't realize was that I also had been deeply affected by the exchange. Perhaps Malfoy had been talking about me behind my back to his friends, seeking support or guidance. Perhaps they had suggested he avoid me from then on and that would explain his superior self control and ability to avert his eyes from my general direction. Harry was also probably a stressor. Not that I should have had to change who I chose to spend time with in order to impress anyone in the Slytherin house.

I sighed. It really shouldn't matter that they probably thought the worst of me due to the argument with Malfoy. They still had treated me with dignity during Quidditch and that was the bare minimum. I didn't want to have to give up sports because of a tiff with a boy.

"Madeleine, you look positively magical," A fairytale-like voice drifted across the gap between the Slytherin and Ravenclaw tables. Hilda and I both turned to face Luna who had a giant pointed unicorn horn protruding from her forehead. Her normally platinum hair was a brilliant bright purple.

"As do you, Luna Lovegood," I grinned.

"Very cute," Hilda said with a blank expression, staring intently at Luna's very long haired, purple coat. I knew she was unsure of Luna's mental health from the way she described the girl to the other Slytherins. I had already asked her more than once to maintain an open mind towards my friends from other houses but it didn't seem to make a dent in her behavior.

Luna wasted no time reacting to Hilda's deconstruction of her outfit, "Hilda I didn't know you were also on the Quidditch team." Her pale face was gently curled up with kindness and inquisition.

"Please. The only broomstick she knows how to ride is the kind she takes to bed," Malfoy had a lopsided grin on his face but he hadn't even turned to look. He didn't even permit us the pleasure of glaring at him as he just kept eating his food.

As usual Luna's face remained stoic but she leaned towards us and whispered, "My cousin prefers to think he's a professor of witty remarks. He doesn't like being left out on other people's conversations, it's just the only way he knows how to join in." Her deep blue eyes twinkled towards me, as if it was perfectly normal for Malfoy to act the way he did.

Hilda leaned back to avoid her own eye from being punctured by the incoming unicorn horn, "He's pathetic and should just stay out of our conversation if he wasn't invited. Madeleine, please tell me you are ready to leave?" She had started to pout when a loud heaving sound erupted at the table.

I turned to see that Crabbe had lost the battle against Goyle; a mound of slimy chocolate had appeared on the table in front of him and on Malfoy's right arm.

"I'm sorry Malfoy," Crabbe cried through a strained voice as he tried to exit the bench.

Malfoy was visibly trying not to gag as he lifted his soiled robe with sheer horror on his face. "Push! Push the bench back you idiot!" He roared as Crabbe grabbed at the edge of the table attempting to evacuate. The entire area including much of the Ravenclaw table was erupting in snickering.

"Push which way?" Crabbe desperately asked, seeming in his fright to have forgotten how to get up from the table bench that was so tightly tucked in.

"What do you mean push which way?" Malfoy was leering at Crabbe in incredulity, "I said push. That means push. Away from yourself!" He lost his temper and shoved the bench back hard so he could leave, Zabini and Crabbe barely had time to collect themselves in the process. In a flash of swirling robes Malfoy had left the room.

"Serves him right," Hilda said, beaming at me. I stared at his retreating figure with the slightest pang in my heart.

۞۞۞۞۞

By 7pm the Slytherin common room was starting to get packed. The dim green lighting and intense, dark academia style décor had transformed the dormitory into another world. There was a large cast iron cauldron in front of the glass facing into the black lake. Only brave souls would drink from whatever was coming from that, I decided, as I watched the neon purple fog rolling out of it and onto the black floor. A few people had already braved taking a cup and I was curious to see if they transformed into something later or started glowing in the dark.

Peeves had been moving in and out of the room earlier in a fit of excitement, drawn from the bowls of the castle by the festivity. Snape quickly banished him before leaving to retreat into his own office for the evening. He hadn't bothered to do much cleaning from the resulting mess and Ectoplasm still hung threateningly from some of the taller ceiling coves and in small clusters in the corners. Apparently the castle elves didn't prefer coming into the Slytherin common room to clean during wakeful hours due to the large volume of cruel pure bloods.

Most of the boys had been missing since dinner time. It however was not a mystery where they were. There was immense hollering and name calling blasting out from the staircase doorway that led to their rooms. Hilda and I had exchanged a number of possibilities about what they were doing hiding in there.

"They're probably really drunk," she shrugged, trying to yell over the music, "Which we should also be doing. Let's go to our room for a second." She winked at me and I followed, gathering up one side of my long dress.

We opened the door to find Pansy and Astoria standing by one of the beds. Pansy had a sickeningly sweet facial expression plastered on and I immediately sensed she was up to something, "You should wear this one. You could go as a Siren," Her eyes beamed wickedly as she held up a small green dress. Astoria seemed none the wiser to Pansy's intentions and nodded her head, taking the dress.

"If I were you, Astoria, I'd check that dress for snakes first before trying it on," Hilda looked at Astoria as she was leaving to change in the downstairs bathroom. She had reached under her bed for the gin and was standing with the large bottle in her hand, swaying slightly. Astoria sneered down at the liquor in judgement, but said nothing and left with the dress.

I eyed Pansy carefully who just giggled lightly before leaving as well, "Dat is not good," I sighed, taking the gin from Hilda and chugging a large shot.

"Ha! Let the little bitch get what she's had coming," Hilda rolled her eyes. She took a swig and winced dramatically from the taste. I lifted my feet onto my bed in case she was going to hurl.

More screaming in male voices exploded downstairs, this time coming from the common room. The boys had finally joined the party. The music was louder and I vaguely wondered what time Harry and Ron were planning to show up. Harry hadn't given me a direct answer on his arrival time because he'd claimed he was behind on his Arithmancy and needed to study with Hermione beforehand.

Hilda and I sat giggling and drinking for about 30 minutes to the candlelit room and casting transfigurative spells on one of my plants, changing it into a potted gnome, then a potted pixie and so on.

I was choking back tears and trying desperately to stop laughing before I cast my next spell when the door flew open and Astoria came rushing in sobbing. The music temporarily filled the room with intensity before the door clicked shut again. Both Hilda and I became instantly aware of how drunk we were in the sudden onslaught of shrieking and high energy coming from the petite girl.

She was shaking and scratching herself everywhere, tears rolling down her face. I noticed then that her skin was breaking out in boils, spreading down her arms, legs and neck rapidly, "You need to go to de infirmary Astoria!" I cried out, wobbling to my feet in my white high heels. Hilda tried to match me and slipped, but caught herself using her fake broomstick as a prop.

"I know! I know! It was that slut who put me in this dress you were right! And Draco is so messed up right now...I don't even know what drugs he's on but he won't take me to the infirmary!" She yelled every single word and my ears were ringing slightly from my proximity.

"Okay, breathe," I said in my softest voice possible through my choppy French accent. I had made insane progress on improving my English in the last few weeks but it was still far out, "Please, now listen. We will take you, uh, der to dat hospital but you cannot touch us," I motioned to her boils with a wince.

Hilda burped loudly and took another drink from the jug, "Ugh, yeah, we will. Frenchness, be a darling and grab one of my spare robes so we can at least cover her up," She motioned with an unsteady finger towards her trunk. I pursed my lips but obliged, tossing one to Astoria who fought back sobs and pulled her arms painfully through the black fabric.

"Okay," Hilda said taking one more large swig, "Let's do this."

She passed me the jug and I downed more myself. My vision suddenly felt blurry as we waited for Hilda to unlock the door and motion us all out. Astoria had the hood up around her pretty face which was rapidly changing and I felt pity welling up for her. I had to use my hand to steady myself against the wall all the way down the stairs and pondered aloud if we had a drinking problem. Hilda just snorted in defiance while waving her miniature fake broom in front of her to divide people out of our way.

When we had almost reached the dungeon exit without trouble a large hand clamped down on my neck and I felt myself being spun around like a spin top. My state of drunkenness was no match for the momentum and I stumbled blindly, caught in the arms of the perpetrator. I scowled up at him.

"Draco, I 'ave to 'elp Astoria." My tone was clipped but it was obvious that I had been drinking. He helped me to my feet and I peered at him trying to discern his odd mannerisms.

He was grinning like a menace, his cheeks were flushed and his blonde hair hung down in an unusually unkempt way. He bit his bottom lip and pulled me towards him by my wrist, "Little Veela, there you are. Thought maybe you'd run off like a traitor to Potter's bed." His silky voice tickled my spine in that soft, low way he typically spoke.

"Ugh," I spat contempt in his direction," You can be disgusting. Are you drunk?" He had a bizarre facial expression on, like he was giddy. He was never this interactive or flirty.

He rolled his eyes but didn't stop grinning devilishly, "Among other things." He turned his head to the side and stared me up and down. My silky blue dress was tight and showed a lot of cleavage. I felt heat rising to my cheeks and darted my eyes away from his to check on Hilda and Astoria who apparently hadn't noticed I had fallen behind. They likely had gone without me to the infirmary. God please help them make it, I prayed, realizing neither of them were in a sound state of mind or body for the journey.

"Among other things? I didn't know you were fond of alcohol at all." I mirrored his statement into a question and raised my eyebrow, "Well, great. Glad you are sufficiently inebriated. Astoria, 'ave you seen what 'appened to her?"

"Like you'd care what happened to her," his lip curled down in annoyance. He obviously didn’t. I realized then that he was wearing a black long sleeved shirt and black joggers. Typical. But what was untypical was how sweaty and fidgety he was.

"She's not extremely, uh, nice, to know, but dat was not right. She’s really unwell." I hiccupped at the end of my sentence, and then again, feeling my stomach turn with the burning heat of the gin. It was hitting like a wave on the beach, a swell large enough to knock a chubby man off of his feet. I stifled a drunk giggle by rubbing my fingers over my lips to hide the smile.

"I don't want to talk about Astoria," Malfoy rolled his eyes again, stepping dangerously close to me, "I want to talk about you." His fingers came up and grazed my chin, his other hand slid around my waist tugging at me, and I felt my entire body freeze. What the heck was wrong with him? He never came onto me, or anyone. He was cold and unhappy literally all the time. I'd had to force myself on him the few times we had made out. And then there was the little matter of Astoria, who was there at the castle that very night, his future wife.

I looked around him to see if anyone was witnessing this absurdity but the crowd was so thick we were surrounded by a wall of jumping and singing people. The room was maddenly dark save for the green torches on the walls and the fire licking away in the monstrous hearth. The air smelled like sweat and the pungent odor of alcohol.

Just then Zabini and Warrington sliced through the crowd and hugged - hugged? - Malfoy, jumping and whooping. They were all so excited and bouncy, they looked like the good twins of their normally spiteful and icy demeanors. Zabini shoved drinks at Malfoy and whispered in his ear, "Where is she then? This ones for her," Then he abruptly noticed that I was standing directly next to him and laughed an odd, startled laugh in my face, "No way! Frenchie!" Malfoy put his free hand over his eyes in embarrassment, his silver ring shining in the dim light. I wondered who her was supposed to be. Astoria?

I looked at him with a puzzled expression just as Warrington grabbed my right arm, "Hey, you got a boyfriend?" He asked tugging me towards him and Malfoy at breakneck speed. His hand was sweaty as it slid off my wrist and his breath reeked of alcohol. I could feel the room getting dizzy and grabbed onto Malfoy's shirt for support, and he wrapped one arm out around my back for a moment before steadying me and dropping it.

Zabini winked at him, "Have fun, live a little for once," He said in a daring, mocking voice and I burst out laughing the moment he turned away. What the heck was going on? I was too drunk to accept everyone's personalities doing a 180 degree turn. I couldn't wait for Hilda to get back and see the scene for herself.

I was still laughing when I noticed Malfoy had started quietly laughing in equal disbelief with me. He was rubbing his forehead and furrowing his brows but he was laughing, and the sound was so genuine and human that it caused my fit to slowly stop. I caught my breath and looked at him.

Suddenly it felt different between us and I knew he could feel the tension getting thicker. I leaned in and grabbed the drink out of his hand that Zabini had left and cheered his, chugging it back. His eyes went wide, "Wait - ohhh." He winced and stood there with his hand over his mouth, trying not to start laughing again while clearly actually concerned.

The after taste was exceptionally bitter in my mouth and I smacked my tongue in repulsion, "Is dat a shit English excuse for a drink?" I mused making a face.

"Well," Malfoy snorted loudly, looking down into his own drink and swirling it, "You can take this one too if you want to get rid of that taste. This one is...normal." He looked at me frowning humorously, waiting for reality to sink in. It did.

"Did you drug me?" I shrilled.

"No! No, fuck," He seemed too unable to stop laughing, and rubbing his face, "I mean, I knew that one had drugs. I was just going to toss it. You drugged yourself, Desrosiers." He peered at me slightly nervously but his bottom lip trembled from his current hyper state. Then he tossed back his drink and put the cup on a nearby table that seemed destined to fall before sunrise.

He turned back to me and moved swiftly closer, pressing his body against mine. His breath smelled like fire whiskey and smoke. I put my hands on his chest, curling his shirt into my clenching fists and stared straight ahead at his black clothing, just trying to make sense of the rapidly changing state of my body. I could feel his eyes on my face as I was thinking and feeling the high hit. Euphoria was creeping up in every single nerve ending, in my stomach, in my heart rate that was increasing. I was very drunk and now high, and all of my senses seemed to dance. His body was a searing heat around me, his breath on my eyelashes, he slid his hands around my waist and up the back of my open dress against my sweaty skin. Our bodies were so tight that I could feel his muscles through his shirt on my belly.

My movements became impulsive and I slid my hands up around Malfoy's neck. I breathed in the smell of his cologne and clothing, the piney scent. He bent and kissed me and I let him. I let him slide his hands down my backside and squeeze, he was moaning into kissing me, sticking his tongue in my mouth. He was starving for the affection. I felt him grow hard and throb against my leg. My hands were tugging at his sweaty hair, bringing his face closer to mine. It felt like we were one being, I had absolutely no sense of time or any sense of where my body ended and the air began. The ecstasy of the drug was so sensational it was like being impossibly happy, confident, and hyper. I wanted to stay there and kiss him forever. I hadn't even thought about anyone else around us until suddenly a crash of wetness rolled down between our intertwined faces and we both stepped back gasping in shock. Warrington had reappeared with a large bottle of Champagne and poured it deliberately over our heads, giggling maniacally, "Room for a third?" He shouted over the loud music. His hand shot out towards me but Malfoy grabbed it like a lightning bolt and pushed him back.

"Absolutely not," he smirked, "Why don't you go find Pansy? I hear she's lonely tonight." He raised his eyebrows expressively, his wet hair looked spiky. It was hard to believe he wasn't shaking with rage from the alcoholic bath. Warrington laughed a brutish drunk chortle slapping his knee. They were all so high it was as though we’d warped to an alternate dimension.

Malfoy grabbed the Champagne in one hand and my wrist in the other, dragging me through the crowd and into the bathroom. A few girls sat lazily in the corner, pointing drunkenly at the ceiling and talking about hinkypuffs. He ignored them and pushed me up against the sink, lifting me from under my thighs so I was sitting on the counter, "Non!" I gasped pushing him away by his chest and gesturing to the other inhabitants of the restroom.

When he saw them he sighed and turned to me looking sly, "It's too busy here. Come to my bed." He was biting his lip again and caressing my hair, staring into my eyes with feverish intensity. He whispered it so the other girls wouldn't hear but they were definitely staring at the extremely uncharacteristic moves he was pulling. I reached up my hands on either side of his jaw line and looked into his hazy grey-blue eyes. My whole body was buzzing and I felt like we had to keep moving, but I also had the sense that he was much more intoxicated than I was. He had done the favor for me once. I sighed heavily.

"You told me once dat I was too drunk. Is dis not similar for you now?" I caressed his face with my manicured thumb.

He shook his head shortly to the side to clear his long hair and sent me a perplexed look, "What? No. Don't be ridiculous. I always want you." His eyes widened as he said the last sentence, clearly regretting it. He cleared his throat, "I mean, not always. Obviously." He was slightly slurring his words but yet maintaining most of his composure.

The jumbled statement hung in the air between us like an invisible third party pushing us apart. Our breathing was still rapid from our physical states and burning lust. His fingers twisted in my dress by my upper thigh. He was gently pulling me towards him, so gently it was hardly distinguishable, his eyes flickering back and forth between mine for an answer. The girls on the floor stared in awe. I became aware that they would likely pass this event on to Astoria and I shut my eyes with guilt.

He lifted my chin forcing me to look at him. His eyes looked absolutely wild, almost unrecognizable. His hair was a mess from sweat and champagne. His voice came out curt and deep, "Don't deny me this. I'm perfectly capable of judging what I want. Now come to my room," It felt largely like a command and not a question. He bore his gaze into me like we were facing off in a staring contest but his lip was curling in a faint smile.

Without looking away I asked again, "Do you love her?"

A vicious gleam glinted in his eyes, "You know I don't."


	11. ﴾ A Thoughtless Commitment ﴿

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Smut in this chapter

You know I don't. His words repeated in my head like a broken record, echoing through my convoluted state of mind. It mattered to me that he not love Astoria on the basis that they weren't going to last anyways, and that nothing was genuine between them, just a forced arrangement. 

His breath was in my face, desperate and hot. I briefly considered that he could be lying to me just to see where it would go, but at that point everything felt out of control. His hands were on my upper thighs, squeezing me, his eyes lustful. The bathroom was so dimly lit that everyone looked tanned and mysterious. 

Draco appeared agitated by the uncertainty in the air and turned his head, snarling at the the girls in the corner, "Get out!" They had stood up giggling and stared at me directly on their way out. I still felt butterflies in my stomach about the inevitable spreading of rumors. Malfoy was clearly out of his normal state of mind and it didn't feel right to indulge his public choices of affection. Would he be even more hateful towards me in the morning when he realized what everyone had seen? What I had allowed to happen? Would he feel taken advantage of?

My sense of awareness snapped back to reality when I heard the loud click of the bathroom lock. He walked along the wooden stalls, smashing them all open one by one with the side of his fist to confirm their vacancy. I felt increasing nervousness building in my gut as it became apparent we were entirely alone and something wrong was about to happen. I stood up from the sink and caught myself on the edge. The euphoria was still coursing through my veins and I was fighting a deep, throbbing feeling to throw myself at him and have my way. It was almost like a love potion level of domination that my body had over my rationale. 

He finished shoving in the last stall and turned to look at me with an amused expression, "Take it easy. I'm not going to hurt you." I stood glued to the spot curious as to why he had to clarify that. Perhaps because I was shaking, but not from fear - from hormones and butterflies and anticipation. My mouth was open as I tried to breath normally through the lustful and untidy thoughts crossing my mind.

He strode confidently back towards me with his hands in pockets, grinning snidely, his eyes locked onto mine with a wicked look. Then he grabbed me with a huff and threw me back onto the green, cold counter and started kissing me again with renewed passion. His body was between my legs and I wrapped mine around him drawing him in closely. Even though the bathroom was markedly cold both of us were sweaty from being high and our touch was wet and hot. I tugged at his drenched shirt and he took command, ripping it over his head and returning to my lips greedily. I eyed his athletic form with a groan and ran my hands down his chest and abs, stopping to pull at the band of his joggers. 

He was bunching my dress up rapidly and his hands ran up underneath the fabric, his thumbs ending at the edges of my panties where my thighs creased. Then he brought his hands around my waist and pulled me to the edge of the sink so I was barely perched on it, my back temporarily arched from the jolt. I felt my heart in my throat as he pulled back just long enough to take one hand away and shove it in his pocket, pulling out a flask and undoing it with his teeth. He chugged back some of it, eyeing me, and then handed it to me. I didn't object and gulped down the fiery liquor as though it was medication. Instantly I felt my high returning to it's peak and gasped staring down at the metal container. There was a growing throbbing in my lower abdomen and my heart was racing again.

"Don't worry, it won't be too intense." He said hoarsely, looking at my worried expression, his blue eyes resting on my lips. I gaped at him wondering if he was referring to the drugged liquid in the flask or the immanent sex, "I need you. Tell me you want this and I won't hold back." He looked at me with ferocity. His face was cold and hell-bent, like he was selling his soul to the devil out of desperation. I wasn't even sure if he was really asking at that point, it seemed for all the world that he was going to do whatever he wanted with me regardless of my answer. 

My body shot from a somewhat rested state to an animalistic one. I had no control left, grabbing him by the neck and pulling him into an aggressive kiss. He responded by putting one hand on my lower back and snaking one up between my legs to literally rip my panties off of my body. I opened my mouth in shock and he stuck his tongue in to dance with mine hungrily. His fingers were inside of me, darting in and out of the drenched area. We were both groaning and I felt my body heaving towards his on the precarious counter edge. I scratched his back, craving more.

I could feel him pulling his pants down between my legs and positioning himself. His heart was racing at a dangerous speed against my chest and I felt him pull back mere inches, panting against my lips, "You sure? Don't take this lightly. This isn't a thoughtless commitment you're about to make."

What commitment? I thought to myself, forcing down a responsive laugh. It wasn't my first time, and if he was worried about taking my virginity then he was off the hook. I just looked at him, our faces so close, "Give it to me. Now."

He kissed me again and I saw that his eyes were closed, his brows furrowed in concentration. His eyes were squeezed very tightly. I felt his tip pushing at my sobbing entrance, sliding slowly into me. He was gasping and having trouble maintaining kissing me. He was leaning his forehead against mine, hard, a look of sheer shock and elation across his pretty face. He had impressive length and I moaned loudly at the raw intrusion between my folds. He penetrated deep, slowly, sensually, kissing me passionately when he could bear it. I saw his eyes flutter open and look into mine as he dug deeper and faster, the tantric connection was unlike anything I had experienced before. It was like he was claiming me as his property as he merged our two bodies. I was throbbing so hard, trying to force down the climax from occurring too early. My hands pulled at his long hair and dug into his back and I was faintly aware that my cries of pleasure were probably loud enough to be heard from the common room. His hands were positioned on my hips pulling me towards him to fight against his strides.

The euphoria was building so heavy and fast I had to break the kiss to prevent it from ending too soon. I kissed along his bare neck and then bit into his shoulder. I heard him whisper swear words against my hair, then, "It's so tight. I-I can't.. Madeleine, I'm going to.. I'm going to.." There was a faint trace of serious fear laced into his words but I ignored it.

I pulled back and kissed him aggressively to stifle my own screams as I climaxed, my arms draped over his shoulders. I felt myself convulsing against him and he whimpered, losing control entirely. He was pulsing inside of me, gripping me so tightly I thought he might rip my dress right off of me. His lips pushed against mine hard. Then he pulled away again to look down with his forehead against mine, his body shuddered and his eyes were squeezed shut again. I soothed the back of his head and neck, my own world still spinning with stars.

We stayed that way for minutes to pant and regain a grip on reality. He pulled himself together and I heard his pants return to place. He stepped back with a completely unreadable expression on his face as he eyed me up and down, as if he wasn't sure how he'd gotten into the bathroom with his shirt off. It looked like he had just woken up in my arms. He swallowed hard and I saw his pointed Adam’s apple move up and down. He looked away running a hand through his platinum locks. I could tell he was still very inebriated and was trying to think clearly about something and struggling to do so. 

I jumped down from the counter and quickly uttered a scourgify for the mixed fluid collecting between my legs. I reached out to him as he pulled his damp shirt back over his head and flicked his hair out of his eyes. I pulled his head down into a gentle kiss wrapping my arms around his neck. He looked into my eyes after a while and whispered gently, "Sorry." He swallowed again loudly and then he was gone, having released himself from my grip and disappeared out the door. 

I left the bathroom with a loopy look on my face. I was so pleased to have finally had an excuse to get with Malfoy I had completely forgotten about meeting the Gryffindor's at the party. It wasn't even that late, barely midnight, but instead I stumbled up the stairs to my room feeling spent from the high and drunk state that had perversely dictated my entire night.

*************************

In the morning I woke to Hilda nudging me with her wand. She was poking it into my cheek with an expression of entertainment and impatience on her soft features. Her brown wavy hair was hanging down over her face.

"Uhhn," I groaned, opening one eye with disinterest. I must have slept in a crooked position because my neck was absolutely killing me.

"Get up, Frenchness! I need to know everything. And I mean everything. Do you have any idea what people told me when I got back here last night?" Her voice was high pitched and ravenous.

I sat up rubbing my dry face and struggled not to lurch vomit over the edge onto all of my plants. "You look awful,” She mused cruelly, "Like you look fucked up. Your hair is matted into one monstrous beast."

I snapped a hand out to shove her backwards and she dodged it with ease, "So glad.." I started then heaved, calmed myself carefully before continuing, "So glad that you are feeling excellent today. Non me." I put a hand on the back of my sore neck rubbing disdainfully. 

"I bet you feel horrible after getting pounded by Malfoy. I bet it was just horrible," Her eyes were shiny with a knowing look and I rolled my stiff eyes.

"Not surprise, every body find out." My voice was weak and I stared at a discarded high heel on the floor trying to remember the intricate details. Not everything was a mystery though, as I consciously took note of the soreness between my thighs and saw swimming images of Malfoy moaning.

"How could they not! You two were snogging in the middle of the room and then kicked people out of the bathroom before locking yourselves in. Apparently Malfoy went home this morning on a surprise family visit. What did you do to him!" She had sat back on her bed and was crossing her legs, rocking back and forth.

"What 'appened with Astoria?" I changed the subject narrowing my eyes at her.

"Oh Merlin, she also went home after she spent hours in the infirmary. Her parents showed up around midnight looking right furious. They said they were going to make sure Malfoy paid handsomely for his abandonment of her." Hilda sounded unimpressed, "Then Pomfrey kicked me out. By that time I was sober and when I got back everybody was drugged out of their minds and I couldn't find you anywhere. You were up here passed out looking like...like this." She gestured to my rumpled dress and matted hair. 

"Hmmm...,"I moaned sounding sickly, hardly paying attention, "Dat is probably why he has gone home."

"Maybe. Did you, you know..." Her eyebrows raised. I just nodded with a sheepish grin. I couldn't stop rubbing my neck and it was giving me a headache. She clapped a hand over her mouth and screamed, "Wow, what a defeat! You took Draco Malfoy's virginity?"

"WHAT-" I glared at her suddenly feeling all nausea temporarily glide away with the adrenaline.

"Oh pfft, everyone knows. Montague wouldn't shut up about it last night. Zabini was agreeing with him. He was a virgin when he went into that bathroom with you. They all wanted him to just get it over with since he was the last one left." She was biting her lip in a devilish grin and I came horrifyingly close to vomiting.

"What... Oh non, l'impossible." That was probably not good. I had wondered if he had been a virgin, but then ruled it out quickly due to his charm and confidence. He was constantly surrounded by girls throwing themselves at him. He had already been unstable before then, now what would this mean? Would he be angry or clingy? Was I going to be bullied by the boys for falling for a hookup scheme?

"Well, if it makes you feel any better," Hilda said, pulling out a sucker from her robes and popping it into her mouth, "Every girl in Slytherin is dying of jealousy. And Potter didn't even show up so I doubt he knows. Have your cake and eat it too."

I stared down at the floor and wretched everywhere.


	12. ﴾ Bequeathment Mark ﴿

On Monday Draco indeed was missing from all classes and around the school. Rumors flew around like spores in the air, mainly sticking to the Slytherin house. I had garnered a few nasty looks from envious females including Pansy who on more than one occasion attempted to physically trip me and make it look like an accident.

My neck pain was getting progressively worse and I worried I would struggle during the Quidditch game that Thursday. If it kept up I would have no choice but to visit Madam Pomfrey. I continued to study English and my school topics between the bookstacks, and to my surprise no texts lunged at my head the entire week. I noted that perhaps the issue was occurring too frequently and Pince had likely fixed it. 

It was Wednesday when I finally saw my out of house friends again. I met Hermione and Harry at Hagrid's Hut as they had invited me in the hallway. The day was dark and overcast, coming to a close, and my dainty boots crunched lightly on the snowy pathway through the glum winter landscape. Harry and Hermione stood outside where the pumpkin patch had been in the fall.

"Oh, brilliant," Harry said as I stopped to huddle in close to them, "You made it. Hagrid said he'd be out in a second. He has something neat to show us." He was taking in my petty coat and expensive gloves with interest. I stared back at him with a soft smile.

"How funny it is that you two will be against each other in tomorrow's game," Hermione chirped in awkwardly, darting her eyes between us. 

"What a world we live in. We are good sports about et, eh?" I looked at him positively and he nodded, his shoulders were bent high as he shivered against the cool breeze.

"She's better than I am it's not bloody fair," He wheezed at Hermione through chattering teeth. Hermione laughed.

She slung her shoulder bag from one shoulder to the other, "Well, it's about time women were recognized properly at this school for their physical capabilities in the sporting community. I for one am proud, despite our house differences." I considered for a second that she was thoroughly enjoying it, as if living vicariously through me. 

"Well now what'r use on about then?" A grumbly deep voice floated over from the hut doorway. A loud dog bark erupted from behind Hagrid, "Fang you silly theng, you hush now. Go on." He gestured forwards at the doorway and a black dog bounded out of the structure to ceremoniously cover Harry's hand with goo while Hagrid shut and locked the door. 

Harry winced and wiped the slobber onto his jeans as Hagrid approached. He was wearing what appeared to be several layers of unrecognizable furs and his black wiry beard hung down to his lower navel. The broad man stood at least ten feet tall and I shrank back involuntarily a step as he approached.

"Oh boy whatdowe 'ave here! Another Beauxbatons come to visit for thee 'oliday?" He beamed at me, "I 'ave a special place in me 'eart for that 'eadmistress of youres." He nodded his head and raised his eyebrows with a sweet smile on his round face.

"Madeleine actually transferred here last year, Hagrid," Hermione's high-pitched voice corrected him, "She's a Slytherin, although, you wouldn't think it from her, er, dress choice. It's still quite...remnant of her previous school." I had a feeling she meant to elude instead to my personality that made me an odd Slytherin. I glanced down at my tight lavender coat and periwinkle gloves in agreeance regardless.

"Right well, welcome then. Shall we be off?" Hagrid beamed, "Got a real treat for use today."

He lumbered slowly, a lantern hanging from his thick fingers as we moved quietly down the hill alongside the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest. I tried to ignore the pungent aroma of dog, and something else I couldn't place that was drifting off of him every movement he made. Harry walked closely to me while Hermione found herself on the other side of Hagrid from us.

After a while I realized we were heading down towards the Black Lake. Harry suddenly broke the silence as the sun began to disappear completely, making Hagrid's lantern glow more rapidly, "Hey, Madeleine, I'm sorry I didn't show up on Halloween. We were genuinely studying, and then well, I had this horrible gut feeling that I wouldn't be welcomed there even if you invited me. Me and Malfoy we uh, well we go way back. Not in a good way." He was watching the ground as he spoke, his hands jammed into his coat pockets. I could see fog had formed against the bottom rims of his round glasses.

"Honestly, Harry, you should've just gone," Hermione scoffed somewhere from the other side of Hagrid's huge frame.

"Et is okay, please. I was not feeling very well and was not up for late." I tried to sound reassuring as I spoke the half-truth through guilty lips.

Harry nodded and smiled at me, and I took that as an accomplishment. Everything would be fine. Hagrid reached the edge of the lake and put the lantern down a few feet from the gently crashing waves. We all stood in complete silence waiting for him to explain our presence there. The moon beamed down at us with white light as if someone had cut a circle out the black sky.

I rubbed my neck which was still viciously burning. My braids were at least allowing for some cool breeze to nag at the sore area but that wasn't much relief. Hermione shot a curious look at me through squinted eyes and I dropped my hand abruptly. 

The surface of the water was covered at the edges with small shiny objects that occasionally glinted in the heightening moonlight. "Hagrid," Harry pointed his finger at one of the clusters of shiny bulbs, "What is that?"

"Well that there, would be why we is here o course," Hagrid said with a bouncy voice, "That there is the eggs o the great Hippocampus horses. They been growing there a few weeks and oi been watching for em to hatch. They prefer cold waders that don' freeze and this here lake never freezes."

"Right." Hermione said slowly. It sounded like she was having an epiphany, "This would be an ideal evening for them to hatch under the energy of the full moon. I've read about them."

Hagrid nodded as a jostle was heard from within the water nearby. We all narrowed our eyes on a ripple that was growing from a patch of eggs nearby. Then another splash from a different area drew our eyes to the other side of the lake. Gradually the lake was getting louder with splashing as small, barely legible appearances of what looked like half-horse, half fish hybrids began bursting out of the glassy orbs and letting out high pitched neighing. It was spectacular and bizarre all at once, and I watched with my mouth agape at the creatures before us.

"Good thing Ron isn't here," Harry chuckled and whispered in my ear. His breath tickled my neck and I giggled slightly, "He hates anything that's gooey and crawls around."

***************************

We had stayed at the lake for a while longer, observing some of the full-grown beasts breach the surface with loud snorts, spraying violent spouts of water for several meters. Fang had barked angrily with confusion several times until Hagrid decided he couldn't keep hushing his dog so we walked back. Hermione had been oddly quiet the way back, sparing small concerned glances towards me. I didn't hesitate to narrow my eyes as her as if to ask what?

Harry and Hagrid were extremely chatty leading up to the hut. Hagrid had also uncomfortably pried me about any personal information I knew about my previous headmistress that he could use to send her a new and exciting Christmas gift from. Harry at one point whispered to me that it was likely my association with the French academy that provided Hagrid with the willingness to befriend a Slytherin at all. Apparently, he had quite the turn-off from my house and from what I'd heard, I couldn't blame him. 

When we reached the gates of the castle and slipped inside, Hagrid bid us goodnight. At the turn off to the dungeons Harry and Hermione turned to me to say goodnight. Harry hugged me very tightly and for an extended pause. I noticed he might be smelling my hair. Hermione on the other hand was looking at the ground like she was upset, her eyebrows had been knitting together more and more all the way back.

He turned to look at her, "Hermione, everything alright then?"

"Yes, although, I need to speak with Madeleine. You go ahead." She gave him an empty look and a half-hearted smile. Harry's face flashed with concern, but he headed off anyways.

She stood there looking at me with discomfort across her tiny features. I stared back, "Okay, what is dis?" I asked nervously, defensively crossing my arms.

"We should go to the girls lavatory. There's something we need to check for you. And...I really hope that I am wrong about this." Her voice was shaky and my heart panged with sudden fear. What could this be about that was so secretive?

We walked in silence to the bathroom on that level. When she had clarified that no one was in the room she locked the door and cast a silencing charm. My heart rate starting increasing with worry.

"Okay, I didn't want to bring this up in front of Harry, but I couldn't help noticing your behavior earlier. Have you...been, you know, with someone lately?" She asked in a somewhat frail voice. Her face expressed that she felt sorry for me and I stared at her intensely, searching for answers. I just nodded, assuming we were on the same page about what it meant to be with someone. 

"And...you're neck, it's been burning hasn't it? Have you looked at it?" She said, hardly getting the words out.

My eyes widened, "Oui, it has. So terribly. Please ‘ermione tell me what 'as you so scared?" I could feel my voice trembling, I was on the verge of tears from the look on her face.

She took a deep breath not breaking her eye contact, and seemed to steady her emotions before speaking, "Madeleine, do you know what a bequeathment mark is?"

I shook my head and my hand shot to the heat emanating from my neck. I turned away from the mirror and tried to glance at the back of my neck, now in terror. Hermione grabbed my arm and turned me back to look at her, "No! Don't look yet. I'll look if you want me to. Listen...A bequeathment mark in the wizarding world is known only to be enforced through some of the Sacred 28 families. Most of them have broken the tradition in the last few centuries as it is completely barbaric towards unknowing women. When a male descendent of one of these families loses his innocence to a suitable...partner... his family emblem burns into her neck. It will continue burning until the marriage is completed. It's intended to protect the sincerity of the bond and the family bloodline. It's intended to burn so that there is less hesitation to complete the...act." Her hand slid down to mine from where it was clasped around my arm as tears brimmed in my eyes. I put my free fingers across my mouth and my head was shaking in disbelief.

"Look," She said with sympathy in her eyes, "I can look for you and tell you what it says. Except, I'm sure you already know who it belongs to. My suggestion to you is to keep your hair down for now and think about talking to whoever it is that gave you that mark. Maybe it could be a...happy ending?" She tried to smile but her lip only twitched insincerely. 

"Okay..." I only managed to mutter in a weak voice. I was in shock and my legs felt they would give out if I moved. My mind was racing back to all of the boys who had known exactly what was happening when Draco and I had gone to the bathroom alone. They had peer pressured him by giving him that insanely potent drug. They had meant for him to lose it that night to someone, Astoria? Me? They had caged me and it had been a mere afterthought. 

"Just please tell me that you'll figure this out before you lead Harry down a path with you. He's fond of you Madeleine incase you couldn't see." Hermione looked at me seriously.

"Of course." I whimpered, squeezing her hand in mine. I tried to focus on the dainty freckles across her nose and not on my racing mind.

"And," She said her voice more stern this time which sent a shiver of surprise through me, "Please, please tell me it is not Malfoy." Her eyes were pleading, and the way she said his name was dripping with acid. I didn't know what to say.

"It's not" I lied pathetically, looking down at my shoes. 

"Okay," She said with more strength and compassion, "Then, I will always be here to help you through this. We could even bring it up to the ministry. As I said it is completely barbaric and should've been made illegal years ago. Perhaps we can even break it - if you want it broken, that is."

Then we left. She hugged me at the door to the hallway bathroom and went her own way back to the Gryffindor dormitories. I covered my neck with my hand the entire way down to the dungeons, fighting back rising panic.


	13. ﴾ A Timeless Void ﴿

I was awake by 6am on Friday. My neck was burning as usual, and I was beginning to normalize the horrible sensation. It seemed to be pulsing more and more as the days passed by and I had to keep gritting my teeth every day. Now that I knew however, I woke up to acknowledge it with a dead feeling inside. It was as though responding defensively to it before made more sense because I'd had hopes that it would fade or be curable. Now, I was stuck with it and my fate felt sealed. I stared at the glossy green canopy like a zombie.

The night before was rough. I had cried for a few hours, shoving Hilda's questions away until she had eventually left me to be. Then the rage had begun spreading in my heart and tunneling through my veins.

How could he allow us to get together knowing what he knew? He had barely tried to warn me. He WANTED this didn't he? How could he be such a coward and run away for the whole entire week knowing I would be there with the back of my skull burning? Did he think he could avoid me forever? What if he didn't want me and that was why he had left? What if he didn't even remember the night? Did his family know? Was I being called a whore? What was going to happen to Astoria?

The torment had grown into an unspeakable ball of anger, writhing in my being and keeping me awake until at least 1am. Now I was there awake at 6am - five meager hours later, and I was going to suffer in classes and in the Quidditch game from exhaustion. I decided not to fight it anymore and shoved my silky green sheets off.

I made my way to the lavatory in a long turquoise lace dress and took a deep breath. I had brought an ornate, gold hand mirror from my great grandmother and slowly lifted my left hand holding the mirror and turned around. I aligned the mirror in front of my face and shifted my blond hair aside.

There it was: a highly intricate shield with black and green colors blossoming across my neck. The large silver 'M' in the center almost appeared to be raised off of my skin. It wavered with animation as if in the wind, and I covered it with my hair quickly. I took a deep breath and sighed heavily, pursing my lips, willing myself not to panic or cry. What was done was done.

I slept through much of my Transfiguration class, earning Slytherin a deduction of ten house points. I didn't even flinch as my house mates glared at me on the way out. The nap had invigorated my deteriorated body. Hermione had sent me a sympathetic glance when McGonagall decided to scold me publicly.

I dressed for Quidditch, quickly repairing the outfit to an appropriate standard since Hilda had worn it. I stared at myself in the ornate mirror dreading the reaction of my team mates when they realized I wasn't going to put my hair up. I had considered a few options to conceal the mark. I had tried glamour charms, a low pony-tail, even muggle makeup. It seemed to have a mind of it's own as it burned right through the glamour charms and makeup, the pony-tail only proved to be useless due to uncontrollable shifting of the hair.

On the way down to the icy pitch I sighed against the harsh wind and with anticipation of the dreadful interaction with the boys. Would Malfoy show up? He was the only seeker AND the team captain after all. When a seeker didn't show up it meant that someone inexperienced would have to sub in and we were likely doomed from the get go.

A few younger years pushed past me as they ran down to the pitch early. I glared at them with evil eyes but the boys just stuck their tongues out at me and continued on.

When I reached the bottom and joined my team they grew suspiciously quiet upon my arrival. A few of them stared at the ground and some of them just stared at me. Nobody questioned that several feet of my long hair was blowing around my shoulders. I cringed and bent to tighten my boots in the eerie silence. Warrington cleared his throat loudly. Everyone turned to look.

Finally, someone broke the seal. A boy two years below us with dirty blond hair sat up with annoyance, "Where is Malfoy? Shouldn't he be here? The game is starting in ten minutes!"

"Shut up!" Warrington scathed defending his mate, baring his unsightly teeth, "He'll be here when he'll be here!" His eyes darted quickly over to me with a dark, provoking look and I narrowed my eyes back at him.

"Shouldn't your uh, hair, be up Desrosiers?' Montague ridiculed me from the pack, "Don't you want to see if there's a bludger coming? I heard there was gonna be scouts at this game. Shame if you missed an opportunity just so you could let your hair loose." Montague stepped forward towards me with a vicious sneer on his face, dragging his black and battered broom behind him. He knew. He knew quite well why my hair was down and he was taunting me.

"Leave her be," A dark, villainous voice came out of nowhere. Several of the boys were shoved aside like the Red Sea as Malfoy pushed his way through the group. His blonde hair blew back in the icy wind and his light blue eyes looked unforgiving, "Snape will have any one of your daft skulls on a plate if you even think about offending her. You know the rules. Go get ready at the gate!"

Montague just laughed at Malfoy, who gave him a murderous look in return. We aligned at the gate in our usual lineup. I stood beside Malfoy at the front, my heart racing. I tried tucking my long hair down into the back of my hood so it would possibly stay somewhat in place. He was stealing sideways glances at me with a stony face.

"What?" I asked defensively with my arms raised, clumsily shoving locks of hair into my clothing. The anger in my voice went unconcealed, "Do you 'ave a better idea?"

"Maybe try a hair tie." He said brutally without making eye contact, "I hear silk is good quality,"

My nose shriveled in rage, "We need to talk after this. I'm not taking no for an answer, Malfoy."

"Careful saying my name like that, princess. It might mean something to you someday." His cold and lifeless tone caused me to sharply inhale.

It was silent in the gateway tunnel for a few very long and painful seconds, save for the pounding of the crowd against the rails, the clapping of thousands of hands, and screaming. My focus was so divided going into this game that I had the sudden desire to "accidentally" hit my head off of the goal rings and get sent to the hospital to escape.

"We'll talk. Later. Focus." Malfoy's stern voice finally cut through my mind as if reading it. His white glove suddenly reached across and shoved something into my glove. I opened it slowly to reveal pointed green leaves.

My eyes searched his questioningly and he lowered his voice, hardly looking at me, "It will help with the burning. I'm giving you an order to focus for this game. Chew it now and stop staring at me." I chewed it and felt an icy feeling spreading across my whole head. My throat was burning from the cold but not in an unbearable way. Slowly the chill spread across my forehead, across my skull and down my neck, soothing the Malfoy Crest into oblivion. I felt physically relaxed for the first time in a week.

The horn blew and suddenly we were running out and mounting our brooms. The game was fast and aggressive given the presence of the scouts in the visitor's box. I had to block bludger after bludger, at least twelve in the first ten minutes alone. I almost let three get by due to slow reactions and Malfoy cursed at me to get it together. When the chasers had moved down to the Gryffindor end of the pitch I had a moment of peace. I saw Harry hovering in the center of the field, Malfoy wasn't far from him. Both of their eyes searched frantically for the snitch while simultaneously keeping each other in their fields of view.

Suddenly they were yelling - at each other. Malfoy moved closer to Harry with an outraged and defensive look on his face, his white-gloved finger was pointing in my direction repeatedly, his face scrunched up. Harry looked like if he was capable of doing it, he would melt Malfoy with his eyes alone. Harry had always had an impressive yell and he was giving it all he had.

Suddenly a bludger was barreling across the field oblivious to either of the boys. I positioned myself directly in front of the center ring to block it and watched in horror as it collided with the ends of both of their brooms knocking them off. Malfoy was able to hang on somehow, he was dangling by both arms from the broom. Harry was not so fortunate and the crowd screamed in horror as a flurry of red robes shot like an arrow towards the green grass several hundred meters below.

I made to abandon my post and dipped my broom hard towards the ground. My broom was newer and faster than anyone else's besides Malfoy's and I squinted against the maximum speed it was capable of, my eyes wept with tears. I had caught up with his angle and I could catch him, I was sure of it. I looked up as his robes came into view and then suddenly I screamed from the back of my head burning worse than it ever had before. I was blind from the pain. Something collided with my shoulder and knocked me off my broom, I felt the spiral of air and the timeless reality of falling. Then, I was winded on the ground, staring through blurred, rotating vision at the bright sky. Blobs of green floated above me. My bones felt shattered, and then, blackness...

۞۞۞۞۞

I could hear voices. Panic and harried responses, things were shuffling around me rapidly.

A woman's frantic voice, "Get her on this bed here. Careful, careful! She's broken several ribs. I can't say for sure what else is damaged until I can do a diagnostic. No! No don't get the dittany first I need a hand on this side. That's it."

Another voice flooded with fear, "Is she going to live?"

"My dear boy, you need to get out of here right now. I can't tell you anything and you'll only get in the way. Ms. Parvati, please hand me that roll of gauze!"

I tried to speak but my lips refused to move, my vocal cords seemed detached from my body. My eyes were sealed shut. I wanted to scream out in the blackness that was my cage.

"This is very serious. Very serious. We need to stop the bleeding coming from the back of her skull. She's still not responsive and her breathing is shallow. My god, you students need to stop trying to be so damn brave!"

"Should I lift her head to do that? Is it safe?"

"Yes dear, we know at least her spine is intact. She has so much damned hair we may need to tie it up. What-what is this? I thought this young lady was from a French family what is this Crest?"

Silence. It was deafening. I fought against the meat cage that was my unconscious body. I am a French girl! Please call my parents!

"That would be my family crest. That is why I am here and I'm not leaving," Malfoy's voice was suddenly recognizable. He sounded terrified, but he had managed to still convey power in his tone, "I will call on my parents. Her care will be done by professionals. The best. She is a Malfoy now and I am required to protect her." It sounded almost like he was being forced to say it, but he said it nonetheless with an air of authority.

No. No I was not. I wanted to beg Pomfrey to object but she wasn't saying anything. Someone else in the room gasped, multiple girls in fact. The embarrassment was overwhelming.

"Call them then!" She suddenly shrieked, "But until someone else capable comes to move her I will treat her until then, and I will be calling her biological family you mark my words Mr. Malfoy."

There was a shuffling sound and I fought to open my eyes. How much time until I was moved to Merlin knows where? If I didn't manage to regain consciousness now I would be helpless to prevent my transportation. I thrashed in agony.

"Her fingers twitched Poppy!" A young girl's voice said hopefully.

"Good, thank - Hold her head up straight silly girl, focus!" Pomfrey clearly needed better help than student healers. She sighed heavily, "Oh good, Mr. Potter you are awake. Please do not move I will be right over there to see to you. DO NOT MOVE Mr. Potter I will not say it again."

Harry was alive. I felt a flood of relief ripple through my detached consciousness.

"You wanted to see me, Poppy?" A gloomy, bored voice sifted through the air. Snape.

"Yes - this girl, she's in your house correct?"

There was a pause, then Snape dryly remarked, "I can hardly recognize her through all the blood you've failed to wipe from her face but thankfully, I attended the game. This would be Ms. Desrosiers. What can I do for you?"

"So she is not a Malfoy? I need you to contact her parents and tell them what happened."

There was a long, uncomfortable pause. "Why on earth would you think her to be a Malfoy? May I remind you that phenotypical similarities in genetics does not always imply that two people are related?"

"Look for yourself then at this poor girl's neck. I don't know what that boy has done but this is irreversible magic. Either way her actual family must know about the accident before she is shipped away off the property."

I felt myself slipping into oblivion. Snape said something else but it was an incoherent blur of words. I was falling deeper and deeper into my head, until silence, and a timeless void became my reality.


	14. ﴾ Choose Black ﴿

The deep and strained ticking of an old grandfather clock drifted into my timeless void. Slowly I felt myself returning to the surface of the world. My eyelids flickered and finally obeyed. My vision was blurry but it was real, or at least I assumed it was. Suddenly all of my senses collided at once into a collage of pain. My head was ripping apart, my neck was still burning from the crest, my breathing was pained, some of my fingers felt broken and I couldn't really sense my legs yet. Slowly, my vision cleared as I gasped for air. My mouth tasted sour of blood and medicine.

I was in a black room. The walls were decorated by paintings of grim looking blond people, large silver candle holders, and thick black drapes over the windows. Furniture that appeared heavy and ancient covered partially in dust sheets lurked around the room, giving the appearance that no one had been truly inhabiting the space for some time. I was in a four poster bed with black sheets up to my chin. I peered down past my feet. There was some sunlight coming in through the windows but the drapes were fighting hard to conceal every crevice of it. Only where someone mistakenly had tied the curtains was there any forgiveness to the warmth of the outside world.

I couldn't force myself to sit up past my chin so I laid back and looked up at the canopy, fighting dizziness. I was notably cold as whoever had taken care of me only provided the black sheet. The thick comforter was bunched up at the end of my toes and I scowled against the freezing cold conditions inside of the building. Was I in some special ward of the castle? Snape's personal bedroom perhaps? The thought made me laugh out loud and then wince in agony against the crackle of my ribs.

"Errrrr," I heard a low grumbly gurgle from my right hand side. My eyes slid suspiciously to look at the source of the noise. An old house elf with a very misshapen and gruesome looking face was leering at me. His head was hardly higher the mattress and his beady eyes were surveying me like a laser.

"You mustn't move, Mistress Malfoy. Mistress Malfoy is hurt, oh yes, quite hurt. Foolish woman she is." He muttered in a dark and unfriendly tone. His bent and bandaged fingers were waving up and down over my body as if to extract some kind of knowledge about my physical health. I gave him the dirtiest look I could muster.

"You 'ave me mistaken with someone, uh, different. I am not a Malfoy. That ees a fact." I raised my finger to point it at him from under the covers, trying not to faint from the pain.

"Mistress Malfoy bears the mark of the master. She bears the mark and carries the seed. She is family now. She will shirk her French heritage and accept her place as a Malfoy, next to the master."

"I am not carrying any seed," I spat at him horrified, "I cast, er, eh, protectiveness spell."

The elf seemed intent to argue against me as he growled, "What a pity. To bear the mark for an empty outcome." I switched my approach.

"Am I at de Malfoy Residence?"

"Hmmm... yes, you are. You are with the master and the masters before him. You are here to heal in your home away from prying eyes. Kreacher will get the master." The word master was starting to sound odd from the amount of times he repeated it. 

I reached out rapidly, wincing from the pain, "Please! Don't!" But with a whoosh he had dissaparated. Damn. 

I laid there helpless as though I were a thousand ton human, panicking slightly that I needed to be standing and possibly even escape before the so called "master" arrived. My ribs disagreed heavily with my attempts to sit up. Finally after several excruciating minutes I managed to scream through the pain and sit up, sucking in shallow, rapid breaths. The paintings on the walls gave me annoyed looks, and I noticed the way that their faces scrunched up was extremely similar to Draco's features when he was unpleased. 

I took in a sharp breath and squeezed my eyes shut while rotating one leg towards the bed's edge. I screamed in agony as the bones felt stiff and broken. I slowly bent my knee so my toes touched the floor. It was then that I realized my left arm was tied up against my chest. Great. 

I started sliding the other leg over and after several moments of tears and gasps both of my feet were firmly planted over the edge. I sat there heaving breaths in and tried to focus on my escape through the pain. My vision was wavering from my head injury and the crest was attacking my neck with ferocity. One of the paintings of a beautiful, gaunt looking blond in a pale green dress snickered at my situation.

"Quite...quite humorous es it?" I didn't look at her while I addressed her. I was taking in the fact that someone had changed me into a short black nightdress and my heart lurched at the thought of who exactly had seen me naked. The paintings started arguing amongst themselves quietly about what to do.

Shall we retrieve Lucius? 

No we shouldn't waste his time on this nonsense, let the boy handle his own messes.

Clearly she's a fool.

I ignored their rude remarks.

Okay. This was it. I had to stand. I had to get to my parents. I took another deep breath in and tried to ignore the tears running down my face as I pushed against my feet. I groaned loudly as my legs allowed me to stand, wobbling in place. I placed my hand out and walked towards the wall nearest me, sinking along it. There was a fire place across the room, possibly with floo powder that I could use to travel out of there.

I had taken a few steps when the door opened rapidly and Draco entered wearing all black comfort clothing. His eyes initially went to the bed and then with confusion he spotted me blending into the wall with my black nightdress, tears running down my face, and long hair hanging over half of it. I probably resembled a hag with my odd stature and pained expression.

"Fuck! What do you think you're doing?" He snarled running up to me and steadying me in his arms, "You have been in a coma for weeks you can't walk!"

I turned and let my tears completely unravel into his sweater. I was crying now at full force into his chest as he held me up on my weak legs. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I had to leave, I had to tell my parents that I was alright and safe, "I need...I 'ave to go..." I whimpered against him, vaguely pointing in the direction that I thought the fireplace to be.

"Come here," He said sternly, but carefully guided me back to the bed. When I was sitting he just stared at me with a blank expression, "Do you remember why you're here?" He asked. One of his arms was drifted around me with no real grasp, just lying behind my back.

I looked down at my hands. My knees looked tiny, I looked...starved. Not anorexic per se, but I had lost a lot of tone. I was just skinny now, nothing more. Many of my fingers ached that were wrapped up with stiffening bandages. 

Something terrible had happened during Quidditch. I had been trying to save Harry and then it went black. I remembered hearing voices in the castle infirmary and then there was nothing until now.

"Harry..." I choked out in a quiet voice.

"Ugh," Draco looked instantly irritated. His face was twisted in a scowl and he removed his arm from my vicinity. It was quiet again for a long while, and I just stared at the hood on his sweater as he leaned forward on his knees, clearly exhausted. Finally he spoke, "You would do well not to speak that name under this roof. Is that understood?" His face was in his hands and his voice came out muffled.

"I was trying to save 'im. 'e was falling... And den I was...." My mind wandered around the memory like it was a confusing ride attraction at a fair.

"I saved him! Because you were putting yourself in danger," Draco turned to look at me, absolutely livid, "And it doesn't even matter because the bludger knocked you off anyways. You didn't even see that you had aligned yourself with it while you were wasting your time waiting to catch him. Idiot!"

He stood up and started pacing with his hands in his pockets, "This is exactly why I don't want girls on my team." He shook his head. I stared at him for a while, the grandfather clock clicked in the background as if watching.

"I am not a Malfoy. Take me to my parents." I blurted out of context. His lip curled up in amusement as he rubbed his chin and took in my features.

"You sure look like one in that black dress." He shrugged, enjoying the irritation that swept across my eyes.

I smashed my fist on the covers and instantly regretted it. I cried in response as several bandaged fingers sent shooting pain up my arm.

"You should really stop hurting yourself so you can go home sooner, then," He drawled looking at his fingers and leaning on the wall, "You are required to stay here until you are better. It is not a discussion. My family will not accept you being subjected to less than worthy care."

"Why did you 'ave sex wit' me if you knew dis would 'appen? You 'ave made me your prisoner!" I seethed at him with hatred and betrayal, "Get dis damned mark off of me!" Several of the paintings cried out in outrage at my vulgar wording. Malfoy looked embarrassed and avoided making eye contact with them. He instead stared down at the rug with a frown on his face.

He sighed after a long pause, "Mad -... It was a mistake. I was...weak, in that moment. You just kept coming at me all term and you wore me in." He swallowed and grinned with a sad look on his face, "My parents wanted Astoria. They had it set up against my wishes. In a way you saved me. Thankfully you're as pure as purebloods can get. It was your freedom for mine. We can make it easier in time, I promise." His voice was soft and filled with guilt and he kept swirling a circle in the gray carpet with his socked toe. His long lashes masked his eyes as he redid the pattern over and over. His hands were in his sweatpants as if retracting into his clothing would save him from my anger.

I wasn't phased by the melancholy features on his face, I was shaking with resentment. His selfishness was unheard of. I would decapitate him in that moment if I could capably walk on my own.

My blood pressure soaring, I started seeing bright little sparks swimming in front of my eyes, more tears were streaming down and I was astounded I had anymore left, "I hate you," I gasped quietly, brushing them away with my bandaged fingers, "I 'ate you, you evil, selfish, scum of a man. Let me out of dis prison."

I heard a shuffling and he was on his knee in front of me, "It's not a prison. You have to lie down, Madeleine. You hit your head really hard. Do you want me to call the doctor?" I could hardly make out his face through my blubbering.

"No!" I yelled. I heard one of the paintings whisper how unlady like! My head ached and my vision was impossibly blurry between my crying and my injuries.

"Just...lie down, I promise, my family only wants the best for you. They've accepted you with grace. Your parents know you're here," He reached out to put his hand on my knee but I shoved it off, "Pleaseeeee for the love of Merlin stop panicking!" He snarled at me, losing his patience.

Then he was standing and marching towards the door, "Fine! Be impossible. Tell Kreacher if you need anything, just get better for both of our sakes!" He slammed the door and I jumped as I watched him go. I found comfort in coiling up on my side as much as I could and cried myself to sleep in my freezing room. Kreacher eventually started a fire in the hearth for me and I finally felt relaxed enough to dream peacefully.

۞۞۞۞۞

A soft, aristocratic woman's voice was drifting around in my dreams. At first it had no footing, no meaning and then I was awake behind my closed eyelids. Someone was moving in the air above my body and there was a man's voice, calm, confident, checking me over.

I froze in terror that I had awoken again in the Malfoy Manor, this time catching the perpetrators in the act. 

"She is of very high value to our family. No expenses are to be spared in providing her with the highest quality and fastest of recovery. Please forward us with a list of ingredients you need and they will be delivered to the medical office downstairs," Her voice was soothing and confident, directorial even. Malfoy's mother, if I didn't know any better. 

"She is recovering quite well, actually. Bit of stickler in the beginning with all those ribs and the clavicle but she's made immense progress. Her arm is basically healed. She has elite genetics," The male voice quipped in return. I felt the sheets being replaced over my body again. Suddenly I was really grateful for the annoying black dress that I had been mysteriously given.

"Oh yes, she does. An excellent pairing for Draco," Narcissa was bragging now, "We've been in contact with the family. Much better than a Greengrass, actually. An ancient bloodline from southern France, part Veela - could you tell? Draco chose rather wisely."

"Extraordinary, Narcissa. Congratulations." The doctor said with a pleased tone, "Well, I know Draco had mentioned she was awake earlier this week which is very good news. I'll be back to see her in a few days or at your earliest request." I heard a case snap shut and the shuffling of shoes.

Once they had left the room I ripped the covers off of me, wincing at the pain in my bones. I sat up with less difficulty this time, suspicious that I had been asleep for more than several nights. Struggling to my feet, I worked my way across to the fireplace but was left dismayed by the lack of floo powder there, then I went to windows. I pulled a curtain back that felt like it weighed more than 5 of me combined and stared out at the snow piled thick against the window. Ugh, right, it was winter. I shivered in my dress remembering how awfully cold the house was. Even as a fellow Slytherin, I could never justify this frigid temperature. 

Luckily I easily located the walk-in closet. I opened a creaky large door and instantly sneezed at the sheer stench of must. The room looked like it had been forgotten completely for a century. There was rows on rows of ancient looking gowns and the like. I tip toed into the room and pulled down the least messy looking robe I could locate. It was absurdly long and dark as obsidian.

I walked around my room with it on for several laps getting a feel for it. I barked in laughter when I saw my reflection in the floor to ceiling mirror. I looked like a corpse bride from the 16th century, with the longest robe on the planet trailing behind me and an unmatched, short nightgown. The hierarchy of clothing had me laughing for several minutes hysterically at myself while the paintings around the room huffed in confusion and disapproval. I grabbed my wand from the nightstand and quickly cast tidying spells on my hair and face, then I walked to the door in my new garb and pulled back on the heavy, black iron door.

The hallway looked like it stretched forever with a black central rug. I pranced out lightly in my ridiculous costume, feeling the strength returning to my bones rapidly. Curiosity pricked me as I waltzed around the manor staring at all the paintings and inside of the endless rooms. Drawing rooms, bedrooms, rooms with just couches and fireplaces. All adorned in ancient, dark décor, most of them seemingly abandoned. Many of the hallway paintings clearly were confused by my presence and started shouting out questions in outrage.

I ignored them, reaching an absolutely monstrous central set of staircases that seemed to span several floors above and below. I shook with horror when my eyes landed on the massive painting of a family tree painted onto the wall across from the main railing. I traced it to the very bottom right where it showed two moving pictures of people named Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy and below them a branch that had a bored looking picture of Draco, and beside him....Oh mon dieu! It could not be!

But it was. True as day, a moving picture of myself next to him with a slightly worried expression on her face. Her blond hair was straightened uncharacteristically in an oddly tidy manner. My name below read Madeleine Malfoy. I clutched at my own neck in shock, the crest burning into me as if to the verify the awful reality. If we had already been married than I had been unconscious for the entire thing.

Did they think because we had copulated that equated to marriage?

The severity of the situation was coming full circle for me. I started hyperventilating, turning to wrap my hands around the cold banister behind me. This wasn't happening.

"She looks upset - I wonder why that would be?" A dark voice questioned from behind me. Draco stood there in a black suit not feet away from me, looking up at Madeleine Malfoy's distraught expression. His eyes drifted to me and he smirked with humor at the gigantic black robe I had swirling off of my small frame, "You look like a freak. Where the heck did you find that atrocity?" It was so long it was trailing in front of his dress shoes from the direction I had come. He frowned down at it, clearly trying to mask an internal laugh.

"I was cold," I defended, straightening myself to cover up my panic attack.

"Well. No matter...I'll let mother know to prepare for a bonfire with whatever is hanging around in that room. It belonged to my grandmother, you know." He pointed up at the map and I followed his finger up the tree line to a lady who had an absolutely demonic expression on her face. "You need to change before dinner, since you are awake and capable now. Can't have you trailing around the manner looking like a rotting Basilisk. Do you want me to bring you something or should my mother dress you?" His sideways grin was flirty and cruel at the same time. 

I sighed heavily, "If I am so well, can not I leave yet?"

"No. You're close, though. Christmas is almost over, and then we can go back to that joke of a school. I have to say," he turned to face me a mere foot away now, leaning coyly on the banister, "I have never spent this entire holiday at home. But thanks to you, here I am." He sipped at a crystal glass of dark liquid I hadn't noticed he was holding before.

Christmas was almost OVER? My heart fluttered in shock. I had been in a coma for weeks, they'd said. And however much more time had passed since I was last awake.

"What date is it?" I asked weakly. I could smell his cologne and it was stirring up old memories and creating confusion in my head.

He cocked his head to the side and took another sip, his eyes glittering as he looked me over. "It's Christmas Eve, princess." He had a knowing, smug expression on his face as he watched me falter in shock.

"So, what's it going to be?" His silky voice interrupted my thoughts of devastation, "Want some time alone with mummy dearest, or do you want me to take you to her wardrobe just me and you? You're choice. My personal advice would be to change now before they are back and see you like...this."

I eyed his charming speech with narrowed eyes, "You're drunk, aren't you?"

"Almost," he sighed, looking away.

"Fine. I'll go wit' you." I curtly replied. He turned and started walking and I followed suit, dragging my spiky odd tail behind me. He walked for minutes, turning corners and taking flights of cold stair cases until it seemed like we were on the top floor of the manor. The landscape outside of the windows emphasized the sheer height of the towering house; trees directly below looked like dots. I mentally noted we were at least six or seven floors high.

Everything had increasingly grown more decorated, more homely, less dusty. I watched him walk in his suit and tie. His hair was slicked back perfectly and he was dressed like he was attending a wedding - a stark contrast from his typical presentation at Hogwarts.

We reached two large double doors at the end of the upper hallway - carved monolithic stone sheets with the same Malfoy crest across them that was waving on the back of my neck. He pulled them open with a hard tug and walked through, grabbing my hand tightly so I wouldn't stray from the direct pathway to the closet. I whined at his crushing of my bruised fingers and he lessened his grip.

"Here," he gestured to a doorway that was dark green. I pushed it inwards and stood astounded at the volume of spotless clothing, most in the same categories of black, green and silver. Some other colors were sprinkled in shyly. The materials were not cheap, and I couldn't help spotting a lot of dragons hide. In the center was a tiled table covered in dazzling jewelry stands accompanied by a green leather chaise. He was watching my expression with a grin, "Pick whatever you want, she already approved it. Just make sure it's appropriate."

I slowly waltzed in only to feel a sharp tug backwards. I looked back to see he was leaning in the doorway and his shoe had stomped down hard on the long black robe, frowning he said, "Take this off. NOW." His voice was commanding and his blue eyes suggested he meant business.

I shrugged my arms out of the huge sleeves and he gathered up the seemingly endless fabric with a disgusted noise. I stood shivering in my small black dress with only thin straps holding it up, and he stole a glance at my hardened chest. I moved around the clothing, breathing in the scent of valuable fabrics. My eyes drifted past the black and silver sections, desperately looking for something that matched my own style. It wasn't that Narcissa's clothing was unattractive in the least, it was only that it didn't make sense on me.

"Choose black," He said as we moved into the room. I had a curious thought as to where the raggedy old robe had just disappeared to. Poor robe.

"Non," I defiantly shook my head as I made eye contact with him, grazing my hand along the endless clothing. I shot him a sassy grin.

His eyes drifted down to my backside which was barely covered by the absurdly short dress, and down my legs, and he inhaled sharply looking at the ceiling, exhaling just as heavily. I reached out and plucked out a dark blue dress with a laced high neck, long lacy sleeves and a very long length. It probably would be a tad too long, but it was the right color palette.

He was close behind me, having crept up silently somehow. His hand was on the hook I had extracted and he looked into my eyes over my shoulder, repeating, "Wear. Black. Madeleine," in a fierce tone.

I turned around and held the dress up against myself, looking down and looking back up into his eyes with a fake pouty lip, "You don' think I'd look dashing, darling?" The last word came out with such mockery sewn into it he surely knew I was being facetious.

His eyes remained hooded and serious, as he looked down at me. His arm was leaning on the shelf above me, trapping me into the corner. He looked irritated and impatient with me, and for a moment I almost felt nervous by his composure. This must've been how Astoria felt with him, knowing full well she was annoying to him, I thought.

He pressed his lips into a thin line and eventually he leaned in close so our noses were almost touching, not breaking his malicious gaze, "Fine, darling."


	15. ﴾ See Where You Get It From ﴿

I dressed myself with mild civility in my dusty room. I had to balance precariously on my mattress with my curtains shut around the bed so that all of the judgmental paintings would not get a glimpse. Then, the grumpy house elf had had to help me zipper up the ridiculous gown.

The blue dress fit well except for the fact that it was too long, as expected. I performed a simple charm to shorten it above my ankles and put on the shoes I'd managed to grab before Draco had pulled me angrily out of the fancy closet.

I chuckled to myself at being able to gain some control through the choice of my own dress color. Looking at myself in the floor to ceiling mirror once again I remarked at the improvement since the last time I was standing there. I looked proper and high-class. Elegant on every level. My long blonde hair cascaded down in waves and my golden eyes were darkly shaded. When I decided I looked acceptable, I gathered up the dress and opened my door to find Draco possessively leaning against the wall. He nodded his head in quiet approval at my efforts to dress up. Then he held out a crystal glass of the same liquid he'd been downing earlier.

"You'll need it, trust me," He said encouragingly when I just stared at his hand. I slowly took it and sipped at the strong whiskey. We stood there for a while, sipping and glancing awkwardly at each other.

"What do I need to, uh, know about, your family?" I took another sip of the strong, sour drink and mentally forced myself not to make it obvious that it was giving my damaged brain a headache. I could feel it swirling in my stomach, burning with the promise of feeling calmer later.

He looked contemplative for a moment and then sighed rather loudly, staring at his shoes. I made a mental note that when he was truly being vulnerable he tended to look away at the ground, "Uh. My father doesn't care for frivolity. I know you have a strong sense of...humor. But you need to contain that around him." He kicked at the black carpet, furrowing his eyebrows as he collected and sorted his family's personalities into sentences, "No laughing at dinner, Madeleine." I paused for a moment, realizing it was the first time he'd used my first name so casually in conversation.

"Sounds just like my family," I said sarcastically. He looked at me quizzically, clearly missing my point, "Et is a joke, Draco." I rolled my eyes and his eyebrows shot up from hearing his first name as well.

He cleared his throat and continued, "He also hates muggle holidays, like Christmas. We are only doing this because your family stressed that you usually do something for this holiday and my mother wants to impress them." His mouth was pressed into a firm line now and his eyes were glued to mine with sincere concern, "He's going to be very angry about tonight. Please, don't say anything you don't have to say." He took another large swig of his drink and I decided to match him after the foreboding warning.

I put a hand to my mouth, wincing slightly from the white hot heat of the whiskey, "See where you get it from."

"Get what from?" He rudely raised his voice, his eyes peering at me. I was reminded again of how much taller he was than me by his towering figure.

"That - right there," I pointed at the middle of his face and he scowled.

I lost control and laughed, spilling some of my liquor on the floor. I pressed my hand against my mouth to prevent further giggling while I stared down at the perfect circle of wetness on the tiles. Draco was following my gaze with the opposite face, "The elves will clean it. But this," he took the crystal glass out of my hand swiftly, "was obviously the wrong move. You're already hysterical." He placed the glasses on a hallway table and looked uneasily at me.

I pressed my mouth into an awful grin, forcing the laugh down that was building in my chest. He looked so perfectly agitated and there was something about that face on him that did this to me. His face was filling with uncomfortable judgement as he watched me struggle to be normal. "Okay, easy now... stop it." He was leaning away from me and I instinctively grabbed his tie and pulled him towards me in my giddy state. His forehead met mine with just enough force not to bruise either of us. "Madeleine!" His voice came out genuinely angry now as he tried to unravel my fingers from his clothing, looking down and struggling to see where they had tangled.

I couldn't explain why I did it but I bent my face up and kissed him. He froze. His fingers were on mine where he had been frantically pulling at them for his freedom. I felt the familiar rush of his skin against mine, the sexual attraction that kept bringing us together. He gently kissed me back and his hands softened. We both leaned into it, kissing quietly. I felt my heart drop in my chest in a new and different way.

"Ahem," a strict voice lightly sounded from further down the hallway. We looked up to see Narcissa standing in a short black dress with a blank expression on her beautiful face. Her blond hair was coiled perfectly along her right flank. She stood like a doll. Malfoy looked as a pale as a ghost and nodded his head in horror, stepping away from me and fixing his tie. She raised her eyebrows at him, hardly looking in my direction, "Draco. It would be wise to come downstairs now, and preferably with more composure than this." She turned and walked away towards the giant main stairwell, her high heels clicking in short contained bursts.

Draco gave me a sideways look and cleared his throat. "Not a good start," He shook his head in disappointment, "Come. Now." I followed him down the hallway, feeling suddenly serious and slightly terrified. I was focused on trying to prevent my shoes from making loud noise in the empty, massive home. He seemed to glide with every step and I found myself envious of that ability.

We stopped outside of an arched doorway and he looked down at me. I could see worry laced into his now stony expression, "This is the dining hall. Please, absolutely nothing stupid from here on out."

I nodded politely. He closed his eyes and shoved the door open. I baulked at the size of the room that only three people shared for dining. It was dark, and gloomy, with a gargantuan fireplace that several people could stand inside of. The table running along the center of the room could seat thirty people easily. I wondered if we were all planning to cram at one end of it or just space out with microphones at either ends. The Malfoy's had indeed put on a show to accommodate Christmas, as best as they could stand to it seemed. A large spruce tree sat princely in one corner against the glass wall facing out against the gardens. It was covered head to toe in green and white decorations that looked like they had never been used. The table had a long green runner down the middle with odd holiday themed items, mostly completely black miniature Christmas trees and sprinkles of silver glitter.

My heart almost came to a stop when I noticed a steely figure sitting at the farthest end of the wooden table. He had both hands off to the side, balancing one atop another on a black cane next to his chair. His hair was down far past his shoulders and was whiter than Draco's, almost luminous in the dim room around him. I recognized similar features on their faces; the pointed nose, blue eyes, strong eyebrows. He had a venomous expression on his face and was tracing my every move towards him like a viper preparing to strike.

Draco stood before the end of the table with his arms behind his back, "Father," He said curtly, the single word was apparently all that was appropriate to say as a greeting. I quickly realized why he had been so expressive about me calming down before hand. My stomach was still warm and my body felt limp from the few sips I'd had in the hallway.

Lucius' eyes moved dauntingly slowly from my face to Draco's with a leer on it, "Draco! How nice of you and our newest family addition to join us for this...holiday evening." His voice was milky and singsong, but the deeper tones behind it implied danger. He had a charming smile across his thin lips as his eyes darted back towards me. Narcissa stood stoically beside the fireplace with her hands clasped together, watching.

I swallowed, hard. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to wait for Mr. Malfoy to greet me or if he expected me to speak up. I decided it was safer to go with the first option. It was hard not to get distracted by Draco's eyes darting at me from beside me. He was projecting his own fear at me and I secretly wanted to smack him for it. He had brought me here as a prisoner, the least he could do would be to guide me through this nightmare, not join me in it.

"Madeleine, I understand," Lucius finally spoke, breaking the long silence, and his head dipped down so he could squint at me from an upward angle, "Yes, Draco has made a very good choice with you. I have to say, we were a tad worried at first when a name randomly appeared on the family tree one weekend that none of us recognized." He grinned quickly and then the smile vanished as fast as it had appeared. I covered up my shock as I realized why Draco had been called home immediately after Halloween.

There was an awkward silence, followed by Narcissa quietly approaching the table and resting her hands on the back of the chair adjacent to the head seat where Lucius was perched. The fire crackled on in the hearth with no care in the world. "Sit," Lucius commanded, directing us to sit opposite of Narcissa. My hands shook against the back of the heavy chair as I pulled out it outwards and sat down. I felt like a floating head completely detached from it's body.

"So, you come from a rather impressive blood line I have come to learn from speaking with your father," Lucius drawled as he poured wine into a black-stained glass, "Surprisingly though, he didn't seem to show any shame when I questioned why he wanted to celebrate this muggle tradition you call Christ-mas. Tell me, do you intend to persevere with this nonsense well into your adult witchhood?"

I took a deep breath and turned to face him, "I suppose I'd prefer to match the choice of my husband, which is the proper thing to do." The lie rolled off my tongue easily. I was an adept liar when I needed to be. It was what I expected he desired to hear, and I had every intention of escaping this Manor of Monsters alive - hopefully never coming back again.

Lucius nodded approval and faced Narcissa who nodded back. She glanced at me and then quickly glanced away, and I felt instantly mortified that she had witnessed Draco and I kissing in the hallway earlier.

"She was chosen by the scouts for the Holyhead Harpies last month," Draco finally spoke with a dull tone. I felt my jaw open in surprise. Of course I wouldn't know, I had been in a coma for almost that long. He didn't face me, just stared back and forth between his parents, "They want to see her play again when she's better." I felt my heart skip a beat and hoped that he was telling the truth. It took every bit of energy in my body to maintain a straight face.

"Hmm and she's been scouted before you, has she?" Lucius quipped back in a disapproving tone, "Pity."

Draco swallowed and look down at his hand on the table. Narcissa's face flashed slightly with sympathy.

The dinner continued with that cycle of repetition; Lucius making snide remarks and taking stabs at Draco, Lucius then leading into a new topic, all the while Narcissa said no more than two words. The times when Lucius put me on the spot I simply replied with what he wanted to hear and kept it short. I found it astounding how they were normalizing literally kidnapping me against my will and forcing me to join their family, forcing me to answer questions about how I would fit into it accordingly. I found it also astounding how they had managed to convince my parents of this being my choice.

Finally Lucius had met his tolerance for the night and dismissed Draco and I. Narcissa smiled shortly at us both and remained by the fire with Lucius. They didn't speak as we crossed the uncomfortably long room and shut the doors behind us.

I nearly gasped out loud with relief when we were outside in the hall again. Draco looked exhausted and defeated. He closed his eyes and put his hand over his mouth for a moment while I stood there watching him. I braced for him to hurl from the look on his face but he remained still. He slowly opened his eyes and studied me, sighing again, "You don't have to go back to that bloody creepy room. Follow me, if you want." He was walking, fast. I lifted my dress so I could take long strides to keep up as we made our way up at least four floors of stairs. Then he stopped at a simple black door and pushed it open. I followed him in and closed it behind me, leaning defensively on the door while I took in our surroundings.

Like everywhere else in the house, the room was lit like a dull cave. There was a huge bed in the center with black covers like the ones in my room. Rows, and rows of books covered the walls in bookcases that reached the arched ceilings. A huge desk with a throne-like chair sat against an entire wall of windows which were surprisingly not curtained. I stepped forward and pressed my hands on the glass looking at endless orchards and gardens outside. The moon was almost whole again in the sky, veiled by thin clouds.

"Es dis your room, Draco?" I spun to face him and he nodded from where he was sitting on the edge of the bed, watching me intently. His eyes were hung low and he leaned back on the bed and closed them suddenly, leaving his legs off the edge. He looked instantly asleep. I took in the fact that he wasn't joking about my room being creepy.

In contrast with Draco's quarters mine had no cleanliness or life to them. The floors were dusty, the furniture was covered by sheets, and the smell of dank seemed to cling to everything. He also had no portraits of family members watching his every move, which was relieving. I sunk into the chair at the desk and curled up my feet trying to get comfortable. He had invited me there to get some peace from the horrible house, but I didn't plan to confuse that with anything else. I shifted and draped my legs over the arm of the chair, getting more of a stretch and sighed, watching the moon outside from the makeshift bed.

"What are you doing?" His tired voice cut through the night.

I stiffened, blinking my eyes, "Trying to sleep, what does et look like?

He snorted softly, "Over there?"

I sat up annoyed to look at him. He had angled his head towards me and our eyes met in the darkness, "Come here." He said.

I hoisted my frail body out of the chair while trying not to trip on the formal dress. Some of my bones were still badly aching.

"You have to take that off first," He said matter of factly.

"You wish, Draco," I groaned. "Last time I was dat intimate wit you look where et got me. Here in dis, hell hole." I crossed my arms. He shrugged as if in defeat and closed his eyes again, patting the spot next to him.

I crawled awkwardly onto the bed, all of the fine fabric of the dress mimicking the sound of waves crashing on the beach. Draco snorted again at the drama of my entrance onto the bed and I felt myself start to laugh too from how silly it all was. I laid down next to him and lifted the longest part of the silken dress up and over his head, giggling gently.

"Madeleine!" He choked on a bleary laugh and ripped it down again, looking at me straight in the face, "Take it off! Don't be dumb you can't sleep in that fucking thing."

Ugh, he was right. It would be insufferable. I rolled over away from him, "Can you unzip it? I had help from de petite elf to get et on." I felt and heard the zipper slowly move down to the bottom of my spine. In my exhaustion I refused to get off of the bed, instead rolling around to remove the dress until I was able to shove the ton of layers off of the bed in triumph. I laid on my side in my black bra and underwear finally free.

"You are so weird," I heard Draco whisper from behind me.

I got under his heavy covers and closed my eyes. He pulled his dress clothes off too and followed me under, pulling me against his bare chest and sighing into my hair. Neither of us seemed to think anything of it. His arms were warm around my waist and the sheets smelled fresh and spicy, like the forest after a rainfall. It was odd, but I felt the safest in that house right there in Draco Malfoy's arms. We slept without another word.


	16. ﴾ Dance With Me ﴿

_"You wouldn't know anything about that kind of commitment would you?"_

_"You wouldn't understand what my bloodline commands from a single heir to a pure blood estate..."_

My eyes flickered open. I was not in my own room at the Malfoy Manor. 

Right. I was in Draco's.

The moonlight was streaming vividly in through the entire wall of glass panes, illuminating the room more than it had been late in the evening with only candle light. The curtains hung like unwanted rugs on either side, out of use. I wondered briefly why Draco was unlike the rest of his family who seemed to be allergic to Vitamin D. 

It was still early in the morning, perhaps 3 or 4am. I was tied up in his warm body like we were two pieces to one pretzel. My head was on his chest and his light breathing was blowing ticklish threads of my hair across my nose. The dark blankets were up to my shoulders weighing us down. His arm was holding me tightly against his neck and my leg was between his. We had no clothes on but our underwear and there was so much bare skin on skin, but the whole thing felt quite innocent somehow. As though we were in it together, fighting through that horrible house and experience side by side.

But we weren't, I had to remind myself. True partners were always honest and supported each other. I wouldn't be going through any of that if he had allowed me to at least make my own choice. Maybe I would have told him we could get to know each other first before doing anything so serious, it's possible I would have understood his complex life.

Right then I would be home with my family, waking up in a few hours to see my brother and my friends for the holiday. The town would be buzzing with good wine, real Champagne, beautiful dinners and walks on the coastal beach. I would be coming back to Britain with a slight tan and a relaxed disposition.

What was my family thinking of me in my absence? What did they know? 

I could feel pangs of hurt slither through my heart as I worried about the long-term damage the current situation might cause to my relationships with them. They must've been mortified to find out I was in a horrific life-threatening accident and was also suddenly betrothed. I thought of Astoria who had been in my shoes not long ago. 

Had she also felt trapped like that? 

How stupid I was to ever feel jealous of her. I had set that girl free while strapping the shackles to myself willingly.

There was overwhelming evidence that Draco's family's priorities were completely irrational and egocentric. I shuddered at the thought of Lucius' vile grin and icy stares. Yet he seemed to be mostly islanded in his beliefs and morals. Narcissa didn't make a show of being a very harmful or villainous person, and as much as I hated to admit it neither did Draco. I could now see that his behavior was highlighted by pain and suffering, by desperation. He predominantly used a cruel vocabulary to offend people around him and that was a meager effort at best. It would be a tortured life to grow up in a house with Lucius - I tried not to imagine how much worse he could have turned out, or could still turn out.

"You wouldn't understand what my bloodline commands from a single heir to a pure blood estate..."

His words from the first day of Quidditch practice crept into my subconscious again. Now I understood, now that he had made me the main character. And it made sense why he was so upset all the time, why he pushed people away or tried to gain control of everyone and everything around him at school. In reality, he rarely had any control over his personal life. Except one thing he had had control over, and that was choosing a victim to bring back to this pit of suffering and despair.

"What are you thinking about, Madeleine?" His dark voice brought my vision back to the black room around me. He was looking down at me with sleepy eyes but his tone suggested he'd been watching my face long enough, "Do you need to go back to your own bed?" There was an air of impatience in his tone.

I pulled back so I could face him properly and shook my head about wanting to leave the room. His arm around my neck retracted to let me rest my head on the other pillow. We scanned each other's faces for a while in the moonlight, both propped up on our elbows.

"Thinking, about you," I whispered. The heat from his body being so close swirled across all of my senses and I tried to banish it and focus. His lean, muscular arm was over the covers now inches from me and my eyes widened in aggravation from how unfair it was that he was practically naked in front of me for the conversation.

"Why?" He quirked an eyebrow at me and narrowed his eyes. He was studying my face for some sort of indication, his eyes darted back and forth. His blond hair was soft again, messy from sleep, framing his face.

I scrunched my face up trying to find the right words, "Tell me de truth. You uh, brought, me here, on purpose? Dis was not a mistake, was it?" My voice was soft and undiscriminating. I looked at him with openness, hoping he would simply talk to me. I had to understand why I had been dragged into this extreme new life by him.

His sigh was dramatic, and he closed his eyes. He avoided me for several miserable moments before he whispered in a faint voice, "I'm sorry."

He shockingly looked like he might cry and I assumed that's why his eyes were still shut. I reached up my free hand and brushed hair away from his vision, tracing his face softly, "Draco, I must understand dis, please."

His hand grabbed my wrist hard and he was dragging me towards him in the bed so that our noses touched and his eyes flung open, "I don't need your sympathy. Believe me when I say I don't deserve it," He was suddenly drilling his blue eyes into me, the darkness awarded them additional intimidation by bringing the bright color down several tones. His breath was hot and short against my lips.

To my horror I felt a tear run down my face as my voice trembled with grievance, "Just...tell me, why you did dis to me? Why me? You said dis was not a thoughtless commitment. You made de decision as it 'appened. You wanted me, here, stuck, admit it." I was inches away from sobbing and it was obvious. He eased up on his grip on my wrist which was wedged between our chests. Both of our breathing was rapid in the small space between our faces but this time it was different. The air was heightened with fear and anticipation.

"Fine. I did it on purpose. Are you happy?" He snarled through gritted teeth, never breaking eye contact. I could tell his reaction was parallel to a cornered animal. He didn't want the conversation. The light-hearted boy I had fallen asleep with was slipping away, back into the abyss.

"Why?" My voice was so tiny from my throat tightening, it came out as a squeak. 

"Because you fit the description. I was under pressure from my family to secure a marriage, and I couldn't let that happen with Astoria. You just kept offering yourself to me, what did you expect?" His voice had softened somewhat and he was focusing on the space between my eyes now.

Another soft tear ran down my cheek, dripping onto his hand around my wrist. His eyes darted down to sight of the impact. My lip quivered but I stayed put, "I do not believe you. It's more dan dat."

"There you go again, being a stupid little girl." His voice had definitely softened that time, traces of guilt starting to seep in through the cracks. He sighed in defeat, letting go of my wrist finally. I knew then that he was not going to admit he had feelings for me. 

It seemed that his defensive anger had expired. I leaned back from the closeness of our faces to lay my head on the pillow near his elbow and stared up at the canopy above. Small tears slid silently down my cheeks and pooled in my ears. I could see his face still hovering over mine in my peripheral vision. He had a pained look on his face as he watched me cry without a sound.

Shockingly his hand slipped under the covers around my waist pulling me towards him, "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice was strained now, "I don't know how to...I don't trust...anyone, with my..." he trailed off, gasping, burying his head in his bent up elbow. His strong fingers squeezed my waist over and over and he began to cry in a light voice.

I turned my head in awe, wiping away my most recent tears. I couldn't believe Draco Malfoy was actually crying in front of me, in front of anyone. On Christmas morning for an added twist.

He cowardly whimpered from where his face was safely hidden away, "You made me feel like this whole thing...like it could be something real instead."

"Draco..." I soothed, turning on my side to face him again and pulling his chin up, "Thank you for telling me. Dat was very strong of you." He wiped his eyes, wincing at me and the entire room as if the furniture was judging him for his vulnerability. He stopped on an arm chair looking like he might start a fight with it.

"None of it matters." His voice was hoarse and he looked dead inside.

I gave him a weak smile, moving my hand behind his neck and pulling him down to kiss me. He seemed surprised but didn't fight it. I felt his wet, soft mouth meet mine with sensitivity. His face was still moist from the tears and the kiss was salty and soft. His fingers rose up along my side to my ribs and dipped behind my back to grasp desperately at my bra latch. He fumbled for a moment while the kissing grew hotter and more desperate. The passionate energy between our bodies was building in a familiar eroticism.

I traveled my hands down his hard body to tug at his black boxers as he rolled onto me and between my legs. My bra finally gave up the battle with his fingers and my breasts sprung free from the lacy confinement. He broke away from my face to stare at my bare chest for the first time and cup them with his free hand. The look of sweet disbelief on his face was all I needed to know that was his first time experiencing that with a woman. He whispered Fuck so lightly I almost missed it, and leaned down to kiss me again, one arm bent next to my face to support himself with the other hand feeling me up aggressively. 

I couldn't take it anymore. I lifted my toe up and caught it in his boxers, pulling them down careful not to scratch him. He looked at me with incredulity at the swift and unusual motion. I could feel his impressive bare hardness now rubbing against my panties, "Take dem off, I need you now." I whispered against his lips.

His hand reached down and yanked my remaining undergarments off with impatient force. And then with hardly any hesitation he was pushing against my entrance, sinking into me slowly. His eyes were squeezed shut and he was kissing me forcefully, moaning and shaking. I had to remind myself that this was only his second time as I tangled my legs around him, pulling him in faster and harder. I let out loud moans and half screams as the pounding sped up and my climax began building. He was now forceful with me, groaning loudly. Instinctively he pushed back on my leg to open me up wider, staring down at our bodies merging, biting his lower lip. He opened his mouth in disbelief and I reveled in his wonderment.

Keeping hold of my leg he leaned forward again to kiss me and the pulsing deepened to a new, slower speed. It seemed that our bodies had aligned their rhythms and suddenly it was something different. My hands were up in his hair, arms around his back. He kissed me slowly and with passion, heat from our breath on each other's faces. His tongue was deep in my mouth. The sudden change from sex to love making pushed me over the edge and I screamed out loud into the orgasm, digging my nails into him expressively. He buried his head in my neck and released with me, shuddering and gasping.

Then he was off of me, turning away. After banishing the mess I realized he had completely faced his back to me and pulled the covers right up to his ears without a word. I didn't push him to cuddle me, just turned my back to his and watched as the moon illuminated the hundreds of books and odd scientific artifacts on his shelves, slowly drifting back to sleep in the warmth of his presence.

۞۞۞۞۞

Music. Music was playing, soft and lively. I opened my eye to the blinding brightness streaming in through the wall of windows. The glare from the glittering snow outside was accentuating the radiant mid-day sunlight. It was Christmas morning and somewhere in the house someone was playing classical music on a piano.

I rolled over and groaned from a few ribs that still felt somehow sore. I was smack in the center of the bed, naked and alone. An overwhelming feeling of embarrassment struck me as I realized Draco had woken up and abandoned me in that state in his bed. I felt good though, healed enough to leave. Maybe it would not be too late to go home to Antibes, on Christmas, and resolve matters with my family.

I gripped the obsidian covers over my chest as I sat up and tried to consider how I was going to get back to my room without new clothing, where my wand was waiting. It would be risky to snoop around Draco's room for his clothing and I also wasn't sure if he would be angry at me for borrowing anything. The only thing I had of my own was the dark blue gown that I couldn't zip up independently, still laying in a rumpled heap off the side of the bed from my battle with it the night before. The result would be me running down four floors of the Malfoy manor with my backside open for all the world to see. I cringed at the absoluteness that Lucius was somewhere in the manor, possibly drifting around the halls with his cane looking for something to inflict pain and suffering on. It would be grisly enough if he were to catch me wandering about aimlessly with my dress undone, but it would even more punishable if I wasn't allowed to be sleeping in Draco's room to begin with.

I would have no explanation for myself, but then again, what choice did I have but to risk the trek? I slipped my toes off of the bed slowly, as if afraid that the floor itself would electrocute me. I grinned sheepishly as I recalled the debauchery of last night. It had been good, possibly some of the best sex I'd ever had. And I was far from virginal, maybe even a bit of floozy. Draco was a natural that was for certain.

He had also opened up to me finally. His tears had been such a heartbreaking sight, and I had realized just how abused and damaged he was. He was so lonely and scared of connection. Perhaps it was why he had turned his back on me after the sensual love making.

I decided to stand naked after checking once again that there were no paintings or other people in the vast room. This was from experience, given that Kreacher had appeared from thin air while I was trying frantically to zip up the ball gown before dinner. It had been awful knowing he'd had the satisfaction of seeing one of my butt cheeks.

Ignoring the searing pain of the crest on my neck that just seemed to be deepening every day, my feet hit the floor and I stood, stretching boldly. It was then that I realized there was a dusty blue dress on the desk by the window. I walked over to it curiously, shivering in the biting atmosphere of the manor. The vivid pastel popped out in the raven room like a star in the sky. There was one small note in expensive looking parchment. The writing was silver and familiar,

"Madelyn.

-D"

I picked up the dress with approval. It was pure silk and the fabric was fabulously glossy. I wondered briefly when he had found the time to leave the manor and get it for me. I had of course slept very late into the day. Beside the dress was a silver ribbon of similar material for a hair tie, and a plate of expensive exotic looking breakfast food. I recognized grapes, so I shoved a few into my mouth hungrily before slipping the dress over my head. 

It fit quite well; the waist and full arms were very tight, but the dress was bouffont in nature without a doubt, spilling outwards like an umbrella from where the bow tied at the back. A traditional French dress developed in the mid-19th century and often worn in upper class French families, sometimes with a crinoline for added sculpture. I had seen paintings of my ancestral family members in them around my house looking like dazzling princesses at Venetian tea parties.

I went to the mirror which was partially covered by a sheet and tore it down. I spun around in front of it feeling more myself than ever. Using the ribbon I tied a matching bow into the top of my long hair, pulling some of it a back from my face. I smiled widely and wished I had a matching umbrella that I could bounce about with. Draco would never allow that though knowing full well that I would be destructive with it or poke him into a state of fury.

I experimentally picked at the food feeling insecure about precisely what it was. I was chewing on an item I thought to be toast spread with something sweet when I decided to probe around the room and scrutinize Draco's personal life. The books were of such a variety it seemed he was interested in almost anything to do with dark magic, dark arts, potions, science, even some on muggle culture and discoveries were sprinkled in. He had gone to the agonizing effort of sorting them by category and alphabetically by author and I toyed with the idea of moving them around to see just how livid it would make him. I jumped when I noticed that a large owl was caged in the corner of the room, leering an exhausted eye at me. It was completely silent as if very well tamed, and it occurred to me that he had likely cast a silencing charm on its cage. On his desk was a floating planet, spinning slowly in place. It was an exact, live replica of planet earth. Areas of it were dark with large matrixes of city lights and the smell of the ocean and dirt wafted within it's proximity. Miniature planes and satellites rotated around the surface. I watched it spin until I had finished as much of the odd assortment of food I dared to. 

When I had plucked up enough courage to open the doorway to the hall I was greeted by the piano music again. It was trilling from somewhere on the lower levels. I had to make it back down to my own wing anyways so I started running as fast I could in my bare feet towards the central staircase. My feet smacked against the freezing stone stairs down two levels until I came to an abrupt halt. There in the foyer of that level was the unforgiving figure of Lucius, back to me with his black cloaks hovering over someone else. I spread myself back against the staircase wall wishing I could morph into it. The classical music on that particular level was very loud, it had to be coming from an adjacent room of the second floor.

"Kindly tell me why my jest of a son has decided to incinerate the peace and quiet of my home while my presence is known to be on the property? Did I not make it clear that this utility was to be banned unless I am away on business?" Lucius' voiced was ripping through the air like daggers. I could feel my heart beating very fast. If he decided to come back upstairs towards his rooms then I would be discovered lurking there eavesdropping. Although it was not my intentions to stalk him in his own home - he was simply blocking my way back down to my room in the abandoned first floor wing.

"I can't be certain why he decided to unwisely play this morning. Perhaps it is the girl in there." Narcissa said in a very quiet, stale voice.

"Perhaps he will remain unpunished this time for the sake of relations. She may be new now, but when they are wed she belongs to the Malfoy Manor. There will be no sympathy for juvenile, featherbrained instances!" He was shouting now, the scintillation in his voice made me wince. I heard shuffling and heavy footsteps approaching. I inhaled and shut my eyes, prepared to be impaled by the cane. Then I realized they were veering towards the downstairs flight on the other side of the wall.

After standing there for what seemed like hours dreading the notion of belonging to the Malfoy Manor I finally opened my eyes when I heard a deep gurgling near my hand. I looked down to see Kreacher glaring at me obtrusively, "Mistress Malfoy is not dressed appropriately. It burns Kreacher's eyes."

I rolled my eyes at the attack. "Well maybe you should pluck dem out den," I spat venomously down at him.

He shook a pointed, damaged finger at me, his tiny frail arm wobbling from the effort, "Errrrr the master has chosen a heathen, he has. Disgusting. It burns Kreacher to look at Mistress Malfoy's clothing. Disgrace upon this establishment. Disgrace upon the masters."

"I'd hardly say dat I am de cause of disgrace upon dis establishment," I leered and left him to sit muddling in the stairwell.

I had meant to go downstairs to my room but instead felt myself drawn to the doorway of the musical room. It was a large double doorway, silver and ornately carved with images of trees with golden leaves shuttering down to the ground. The piano played beyond with grace and confidence. I pushed the door with hesitation to find a ballroom that was absolutely massive. The walls were covered in shiny silver and green wall paper, hints of pink daring to glitter here and there. There were hundreds of decorative wingback chairs scattered around the boundaries of the room, leaving the center vast and open save for the pillars that held up the arched ceiling. It smelled vaguely dusty, and even though it was the middle of the day, candles were lit due to all of the curtains being drawn. The sadness of the music drawled towards me, bringing my eyes to the massive white piano in the farther corner.

I emerged and carefully closed the monstrous door. On the tips of my toes I approached him, watching his long fingers creating the classical ambiance filling the manor. He was concentrated, his eyebrows were pushed together and his mouth was a thin line. He was dressed in a similar type of suit as the prior day.

I stood a mere few feet from him watching him play with burning regard. He was so much more human than I had ever expected.

Suddenly his back straightened and the beautiful, tortured melody came to a crash as his hands flattened and he spun to glare at me, "Madeleine, didn't your guardians ever teach you it was rude to spy?" His face was twisted in annoyance, but then it blanked as he took in the dress on my figure, "Has my father seen you in that?"

I shook my head no and he looked relieved, "Good - you should stay hidden until we can leave tomorrow. I'm not going to walk you to your room, you can find it yourself."

I pouted, "It is Christmas," I said in a small voice, watching him for a reaction. I didn't want to go back to the far forgotten wing of the house that smelled like mold and was inhabited by cruel ancestral paintings. He just stared at the ballroom floor with frustration. His eyes looked like they were somewhere else.

Finally he broke the silence, "What do you want me to do about that?" He was cold and impatient, like he was hoping I would melt into the floor and leave him be.

My face curled into a deep frown and he sighed loudly, probably fearing I would start blubbering on the spot, "You can't go today. You have to go back on the train with me tomorrow. My father...," his face suddenly looked anguished, "...my father made it clear I was not to let you out of my sight. He was supposed to leave today for Ministry business and doesn't want any...fuss, while he's gone."

My heart shattered as the last remaining hope of leaving that day wisped away. Instead of making a bad thing worse I sighed and decided to just accept it. I cautiously approached him and put my tiny hand on the piano corner. He watched me with suspicion.

"You can play," I stated, gesturing at the grand piano.

"Oh really? What would ever give you that impression?" He looked at me with dry sarcasm.

I reached out and poked at the keys with no sophistication whatsoever, "Look, I can play too!" I bit my lip with a playful smile on my face.

He snorted, "Oh yeah, really putting Mozart to shame."

I sat on the bench next to him and he instantly looked agitated at the intrusion of his personal space. I felt him shuffle over several inches. "Why do you play?" I asked gleefully.

He pushed at a key with his pointer finger, "I played for the balls, when we had them." His voice was bored, but the memory seemed unhappy as his face was suddenly sullen. He seemed very unhappy that day, something obviously weighing heavily on him.

"Balls, ah, c'est magnifique. Den you can dance too?" I knew I was asking too many questions, and he was likely to explode at any moment, but I couldn't help the feeling of being drawn to him. The feeling of trying to draw him out of his shell. It was always like that - a cat and mouse game between us. He made me chase him for absolutely everything, and I was hooked on the toxicity.

He raised his face and looked at me, smirking, "Sure, yeah."

I brushed my long hair back over my shoulder and put my hand out, "Dance wit' me, Draco."

His blue eyes slid down and looked at my hand like it was a malicious viper, waiting to sink it's fangs into his hand if he accepted. Then he shook his head, "No."

I stood up abruptly and he grabbed the end of the bench to avoid being thrown off. I pranced to the center of the room in my beautiful lustrous dress and spun, pushing up onto the tips of my toes. My arms carved and I swung, the muscle memory of having done ballet for years came soaring back. Dance of the sugar plum fairy, for Christmas, I thought as I stepped and swirled, taking light little jumps. I reveled in the elegance. I could hear the music from my home, I could smell the candles and hear the laughter of the holiday. In my mind and in my dance I was home with my loved ones. 

In reality, I was in a colossal dark pink ballroom at the Malfoy Manor surrounded by ghosts and dust, darkness and malevolence. My hair swirled around me like a golden river and I reached up towards the ceiling in one of my moves, smiling and laughing. It was then that I got a glance of Draco frozen at the piano; he was watching awestruck.


	17. ﴾ Trouble In Paradise? ﴿

The carriage Narcissa had sent us in to get to the train station was absurdly lavish. The interior was lined with gold fixtures and heavy black cloth. She had forced me to put on a formal black dress before leaving, reminding me that I now represented the Malfoy name in public. 

I stared at Draco who was sitting across from me in his green school robes, staring right back indifferently. He had a menacing ability to hold eye contact with other people in an authoritative, unblinking manner. Something had changed again between us. In the past day he had hardened back into a cruel, snippy version of himself, and we were once again bickering pathetically.

To break the uncomfortable stare off I thought it would be amusing to start smiling at him psychotically. He rolled his eyes and looked out the window with a huff, "Do you ever compose yourself?" His deep voice hinted at discouragement. He knew that I could compose myself when I needed to, it was a low blow. I had sat with a very straight face on at Christmas Eve and did my best to impress his gruesome family.

"Do you ever smile?" I retorted, also resigning to watching the landscape slide by through the window. It was white and fluffy outside, a perfect snowy day. We were bouncing along through a heavily wooded road in rural Britain and there wasn't much outside the window to distract oneself with.

I had decided that I would need to prod him more productively for answers about what was going on.

He was possibly the hardest person to hold conversation with - he truly was a master of abruptly ending an already strained exchange. Talking, I had decided, was far from his strong suit. I still was left with so many questions; a pile of unanswered mysteries about what was going on between us. I knew then, at least, that he had specifically chosen me, on purpose, to take on his last name.

"You made me feel like this whole thing...like it could be something real instead."

The way he had said it implied that he might have authentic feelings for me, but since that night he had been stand offish again, as he was before the crest. He was acting like he had chosen me for my family status, or because Astoria was the worst possible alternative. Like he had moved from one trap to a slightly more bearable one. 

I was convinced he had some kind of attraction to me that was deeper than just sexual, but if he did he was making it extremely difficult to extract. On top of that, I had gone and developed actual feelings for someone who didn't respect me at all. I knew in my heart that I was in trouble after our last hook up.

The carriage gave off an endless cacophony of wooden banging noises and metal screeching. The medieval form of transportation was neither comfortable nor ideal, and I fought the urge to question him about why his family would use such a ridiculous mode of transit. I probably had a limited amount of questions that I would be able to ask before we either reached the Hogwarts Express or he snapped at me, and I wasn't about to waste one querying about the carriage.

"You're staring at me again. Is something amusing?" He inquired without glancing up from the window. His blond hair was soft that day and he looked handsome in the sunlight in his green robes; his bright blue eyes were shining like icy orbs as he watched the snowy landscape glide by slowly. I hadn't seen him in full light for most of the time we had spent in the dungeon-like manor.

"Draco, we are going back to de castle now. What are we?" I nervously shifted in my seat and played with my gloves so I could release my anxiety. I needed clarification on what to tell people. No doubt all of the young witches who had been present in the infirmary the day of the accident had spread the news like wildfire. Harry, the thought came to my mind. Oh no, he had be awake in that room as well.

He turned to scrutinize me with a scowl. I could see he was partially forcing the cruelty but what his motivation was, remained unclear, "We are marked. Listen carefully." 

He leaned forward clasping his hands over his knees to sneer at me, "It's unbreakable. Think of it as... engagement. It's not something that needs to be dramatized - keep it simple when people ask you." His gaze was threatening and commanding and I felt my mouth drop open in disbelief. 

He had reverted right back to his wicked and offensive self as though the boy I'd come to know was all just a dream in my head. I struggled to respond, feeling a deep sinking in my innards. It had been possible to imagine dealing with the betrothal if he had acted like it was something he wanted, if he had continued to grow with me and open up. But here he was being an asshole and still expecting me to stay in the engagement. It would be hell.

"Engaged seems a bit dramatic, don' you think? What if I take off your precious crest? What den?" I responded, trying to control the rising fear in my voice.

He laughed, flashing perfect white teeth and shrugged, "If you can get it off, I'll personally bow down to you. No one in the entire history of the wizarding world has ever managed that."

"I'll cut it out!" I shrieked sounding slightly insane and he quirked an eyebrow in entertainment. He scanned my body with a sideways grin in an effort to embarrass me further before returning to meet my tearing eyes. The crest was now profanely burning into my neck as though it could hear my defiance.

"You'll bleed to death and believe me, even if you don't, it will always be there. Face it, you belong to me now. Should I make up a cute pet name for you?" He was taunting me, the look on his face was nasty and assertive.

My fists were curling up dangerously tight in my lap. His eyes flitted down to my body language and he shuffled as far away from me as he could on the opposite side, adjusting his robes as he did. It was hardly quiet. I was physically growling with helplessness and boiling anger. He stared out the window like I was invisible.

"You will not embarrass me at school, Madeleine," he stated after about thirty minutes had passed. I had finally begun to calm down somewhat while plotting strategies in my head for how I would deal with it all, when his voice started me up again. "You will be presentable. You will sit with me when it makes sense to. You will not fight with me in public. I will not have you staining the Malfoy reputation - I have been instructed to keep you under surveillance." He turned to look at me warningly, and a flicker of unease filled his stare, "Any nonsense from you will surely result in Lucius getting involved. You don't want that." 

I sobbed, placing my elbows on my knees and burying my face in my hands. The expensive black petticoat coat that Narcissa had put me in was barraged with tear drops. My long hair fell over most of my face and it felt relieving knowing he had no more access to my expressions. He was vile. I almost wanted to hurl for having been so foolishly intimate with him over the past three days.

"Go ahead and cry, it's what you do best after all..." Malfoy mocked me through his teeth, shaking his head in annoyance.

Once my tears had dried and I felt numb inside I willed myself to look out the window again and tried to think clearly. The carriage was moving along main streets of London now, oblivious to muggles by an invisibility charm. Gradually it slowed and came to a stop outside of the train station.

Malfoy stood up to exit the carriage and my rage bubbled over randomly in that instance. The moment he opened the door I lifted my foot and kicked him out. He fell face first onto the ground cursing, and I rapidly emerged from the carriage so I could walk down his entire back on my way out. 

It was at that point in time that I noticed Harry and Ginny had been talking outside of the station and were now staring with wild looks of shock at the situation. The carriage had a gigantic Malfoy crest on the outside and there I was, back from the dead nearly a month later, coming out of it with Malfoy himself, dressed in all black Malfoy clothing, and simultaneously beating him up. It must've resembled a scene from a bizarre fever dream.

I just stood there with absolutely no explanation, meeting Harry's bold gaze from across the entrance plaza. The driver was unpacking trunks and the mean looking owl from Malfoy's room. I felt a hand pull me back by my hood effectively choking me slightly. He spun me around so our faces were literally inches apart, "Strike one, Madeleine! You're lucky we aren't at Hogwarts yet, or this would be a very different situation." He was absolutely livid, seething, and I wondered for a moment if he was going to hit me. He finally let go of the arm that he was squeezing painfully and went to grab items from the carriage driver, oblivious to Harry and Ginny watching. I decided not to mention it to him.

۞۞۞۞۞

We stood quietly side by side in the train station, anger swirling silently between us while waiting for the train to roll up. Not many students were boarding due to some having stayed behind at the castle, and some not returning quite yet. Still, I felt the hair on the back of my neck prickling as I recognized a few familiar faces staring at us and pointing. People were already talking, people we didn't even necessarily know. It would be a blood bath in the Slytherin common room. And I didn't even know how I was aloud to explain the situation yet.

Finally when the train came I felt a pang of relief that we didn't have to keep standing there, resenting each other in such an open public space. We boarded at the end of the line, and because I had absolutely no baggage concerns I felt like a free agent. I scanned into all of the cabins as we passed by them, desperate to find someone to sit with to get a break from Malfoy for a few hours. He was in front of me and I was lagging behind, searching frantically.

Without warning I found myself locking gazes with green-blue eyes and a scar, seated in the cabin I was peering into. I inhaled sharply. Harry's face was one of confusion but it was still soft and concerned. He didn't motion for me to open it but he didn't bat me away from the window either. We just stared, and it felt like we were a desert apart. I put my hand on the handle to pull when suddenly a larger one cloaked mine and I looked up into barbarous blue orbs, "Think sitting with Potter will fly with Lucius? Think again, princess. Keep it moving." His head was now blocking the entire window and I sucked on my lip uncomfortable with the reality that Harry would recognize the blond hair and that Malfoy had appeared to whisk me away.

He pulled me in front of him, and pushed me towards the back of the train. He then cornered me into a seating booth, both of us sat on the same side which was an odd thing to do. He put his head down on his crossed arms with exhaustion pulling his hood over his head, and I felt no pity for him. If he felt like he had to chaperone me, it was entirely his own doing. This wasn't pleasant for anyone involved.

The train started rolling and I slumped my head on the glass feeling dead and lost inside. I could feel Malfoy's body pressed up against mine but it did little to offer comfort.

"Trouble in paradise?" A sarcastic voice floated into our proximity as Zabini sat down across from us, crossing his fingers on the table and looking utterly stone faced. I slid my eyes towards him without moving my face from the cool glass window.

Malfoy sat up and rubbed his face, "Shut the fuck up, Zabini." The hood was covering his face from where I was looking, but his voice expressed all I needed to know. He was aggravated, probably having assumed he wouldn't need to speak during the entire train ride. Zabini's eyebrows were up and he had a malicious grin on his face suddenly. I braced myself, knowing this was one person out of hundreds who was about to confront us like this.


	18. ﴾ A Pile of Bones ﴿

When the train pulled up to the castle I was ready to explode. The entire ride had been stiff and excruciating. People had made zero effort to mask their gossiping, and Zabini had continuously made jokes about marriage. Every time Draco ignored him or yelled at him it just threw fuel on the fire. I was pinned against the window like a chihuahua in a small handbag, a pet as Malfoy had pointed out. I hadn't said a word, just watched them take shots at each other.

When we reached the common room I wanted to turn inside out at the entry wall. Malfoy looked down at me with similar exhaustion, "Go to bed." He went in first and practically ran to his room. I did the same, skipping stairs two at a time, desperate to get out of the clothing that smelled like Narcissa and into my own bed.

I opened the door to my shared room and all of the girls looked up with judgement. Hilda instead stared at the floor. I was having trouble discerning what was going through her head.

Was she mad at me? Was she uncomfortable?

I went to my trunk and tugged out a pink cami nightgown, quickly changing out of the ridiculously expensive black clothing with the Malfoy crest on it. Pansy and the other girls sent me looks filled with questions and mockery, whispering amongst themselves. I sat on the edge of my bed feeling relaxation slowly creeping over me for the first time that day. I was so numb from everything that had already happened that I didn't really register the insults. The familiar smell of the dormitory was such a smack to my senses after being trapped in the Malfoy Manor for over a month and a half. Hilda was on her bed, her arms folded behind her head, staring at her bed canopy with intense focus. She was angry, confirmed.

"Hilda..." I began, with no real sense of where I was going with the sentence. It was more of a probe than anything.

She glanced sideways at me with a look that could turn clay to stone, "Oh, hey, how's your life going Madeleine. Anything new to report?"

I fumbled with the hem of my nightdress. "You know I 'ave a lot to say. I'm sorry..."

She looked at me with an icy glare. "No? No way!" Her sarcasm was precarious and I felt instantly exposed and helpless. Several other girls looked our way, and snickers erupted around the room.

"Can we just.. talk?" I begged in a low voice. The desperation in my tone went unconcealed. She turned over on her side away from me and I did the same, clutching at my pillows and fighting tears sliding down my face.

۞۞۞۞۞

The first day back was severely punishing. Malfoy had made sure to wait at the base of the girl's stairs in the morning so he could escort me directly to potions class like a criminal at a jail. The Slytherin common room was filled with whispering, and the hallways were even worse where people from other houses stared without hesitation. I felt like a dog on a leash and the embarrassment was so intense that all I could bring myself to do was look at the ground utterly horrified while he tugged me around, either holding my hand or putting his arm around my neck.

Hilda had refused to speak to me since the night of my arrival back, leaving me swimming in a pool of anxiety. I needed the support of my best friend more than ever. I was chained to a maniac and I was in serious trouble if I couldn't count on anyone helping me get free.

As the days crept by I gradually began struggling to eat and sleep. Malfoy was constantly at my side like a hawk and I was withering away from the pressure and isolation, my normally glowing face had sunken - my skin was persistently puffy from crying and dark circles were brewing below my golden eyes. 

Malfoy went on with his life as normal not even giving me a shred of consolation; he continued to bully younger years and laugh with his friends, marching me through the hallways with a display of authority. Harry and his Gryffindor crew consistently gawked at me in the great hall during meals, not even bothering to mask their chattering and glances. Hermione looked pallid and resentful and my remorse reached an all time high that I hadn't come clean with her in the girl's lavatory the day she confronted me about who gave me the bequeathment mark.

The breaking point was reached almost two weeks after returning to school. The Slytherin team was walking back from Quidditch, the entire group of boys save for myself was boisterous in the courtyard from the hype of winning a second consecutive game in a row. McGonagall stormed across the open space with an air of fortitude. Her appearance was stern and unforgiving, green robes billowing around her frame in the wind.

"Malfoy, you will follow me right now. _Both_ of you," she looked between me and Draco as if unsure what to address me by. Nobody moved, the sounds of snickering and whispering from the other players drifted through the space. I focused my gaze on her pointed hat, feeling fear sinking into me. I had become quite docile from Malfoy's constant threats to involve his lethal father if I tried anything he didn't approve of. I was ghastly aware of his stance to my right. His arm was slung possessively over my shoulder. I waited for his reaction to gauge what to do.

Malfoy looked antagonistic, gripping his broom tightly. His pointed features twisted into his typical sneer as he stood frozen in place.

"It is not a question," McGonagall lowered her voice and cast Malfoy a dangerous stare, "Right now, Mr. Malfoy."

He sighed heavily in aggravation and gripped my wrist tightly in his white glove, dragging me behind him. McGonagall looked perversely disturbed at the gesture as she directed us through the hallways, moving down into the dungeons. After we had been walking for almost ten minutes she lost her patience and swiveled around to look at Malfoy with an expression of distaste, "Please tell me you do not intend to drag this poor girl this entire journey. Remove your grasp at once or I will be forced to deduct house points." She gave him a warning look and he finally released my wrist. I rubbed at the bruised area without saying anything.

Eventually, we came to a halt outside of Snape's personal office. McGonagall didn't bother knocking only pushed the door open and gestured us inside. Snape was situated at his desk, a green fire was lazily burning in the corner. He looked up from parchments that he was marking with a raised eyebrow, "And to what do I owe this pleasure, Minerva?" He quipped in irritation, black eyes scanning skeptically over Malfoy and I and then back to her.

McGonagall looked uncomfortable for a moment, waving at me and Malfoy standing there in our Quidditch uniforms, "Are we not going to address this Severus? It's clearly unhealthy. Just look at her she's a pile of bones."

I felt Draco eye's shoot to my face threateningly. I stared at my Quidditch boots, my long blond hair fell down over my face pathetically. Snape didn't acknowledge him and obediently scanned my thin frame and apparent lack of vitality, pressing his mouth into a thin line, "Miss...Malfoy, as it is now, has made her decision. It is not my place to dictate family matters." His voice was slow and apathetic, and his expression was blank.

McGonagall didn't flinch; she appeared to be searching for her next words carefully, a distraught look of heartache seeping into her face, "Severus, no. This girl needs to...to have her independence back. She may be betrothed as you suggest, but I will not stand idly by and allow this level of torment and abuse to continue. Hogwarts has never supported this type of affectation."

Snape seemed bored. He looked at all three intruders to his office clearly weighing his options. The fire snapped loudly as a piece of wood gave way to the inferno, the only sound in the room besides our breathing.

Draco's curt voice suddenly breaking the void of silence caused me to snap my head up, "Professor, I see no issue with allowing Madeleine more flexibility. So long as it does not result in...disorder." He was looking down at me now with wide, cautious eyes. I nodded my head eagerly at everyone in the room, feeling alive for the first time in weeks.

"Very well..," Snape drawled without moving a muscle, his black eyes darted to Malfoy's face with indication, "You will allow her to go about her day as she did before, Draco. I don't want to have to, revisit, this topic."

۞۞۞۞۞

The moment McGonagall dismissed us in the dungeon hallway and had disappeared around the corner Malfoy slammed me into the wall. He had pinned my back on the bricks by his arm against my throat, "Don't mistake this as a free pass. I'll be close behind you. Always." His voice was icy as his eyes darted back and forth between mine.

I grabbed at his arm in defiance, pulling at it desperately as the pressure was really quite uncomfortable and was making it difficult to respond. My golden broom clattered to the ground loudly and clusters of Slytherins heading to the common room sent concerned looks at the display, "Draco...," I choked and he pushed at me harder from the incorrect name usage, "I...I cannot live like dis. Please. What...changed?" My eyes welled up as I searched his face frantically. He had shown me kindness before, I knew it had been real. Why it had disappeared just as quickly was the biggest mystery.

He looked me over slowly, finally releasing the pressure against my throat, "My father sensed insubordination in you. He wasn't wrong, either, was he? If I don't keep you in line, he will. You'll find that he is far less...magnanimous, than I am." His expression was vacant but I noticed his mouth twitch. A sign of sadness? Fear?

I coughed, trying to clear the pain from my throat, "You are not dis person. I know it. Come back from wherever you 'ave gone to." My lip trembled and I felt a tear slide down my cheek as I held his gaze. He seemed to be thinking, and for the first time in weeks I felt like the progress we had made at the manor was returning in tiny ripples. I reached up a weak gloved hand to caress hischeek, trying to find some sort of connection, hoping he would let the brutality slip away as he had before.

He pressed his mouth firmly together, wickedness drilling into his beautiful eyes, "Predictable. You think you can just buy me over by acting like you're in love?" He pulled away and shook my hand off of his body with a snarl.

My disappointment at his reaction couldn't be greater - maybe he really was gone for good. Whatever Lucius had said to him the morning before we'd left the manor had been astringent enough to completely ruin all of Draco's emotional progress. 

I acted on instinct and took the opportunity to bring my knee up as a fast as possible between his legs, causing him to topple over against the wall with a shocked yelp. I grabbed my broom from the stone floor and turned to his wincing face, "Don' flatter yourself." I spat on the ground next to him, "And if you want to stalk me around, den so be it. You 'ave lost your ability to make me your pet." And with that I was gone, furiously stomping down the corridor, ignoring the students who had stopped to watch the show, and feeling energy returning to my soul with the renewed freedom.


	19. ﴾ A Graceful Predator ﴿

I awoke on Saturday morning, the day after the visit to Snape's office, with some optimism. The crest was violently scorching into my neck, but there was nothing that I could do about that. It seemed to have a will of it's own, somehow aware of the times when I was far from Malfoy or acting insolent to it's marriage agenda. 

Hilda was awake in her bed and her eyes trailed after me as I dressed and prepared for a visit to the lake. I had intentions to lay in the sunshine of the beautiful winter day and do some research on bequeathment marks. The thought to ask Hermione Granger if she knew of any helpful literature had crossed my mind, but if the frosty glances she'd been sending me lately were any indication of her temperature towards me than it would be best left alone. I knew it was probably a lost cause, but I had to try figuring out a solution on my own. I had to put up a fight now that I wasn't being forced to conform to Malfoy's incessant and smothering babysitting. 

"Going outside, are we?" She asked from her bed, where she was lying on her side flipping through a wizarding newspaper. Moving pictures on the pages glanced unnervingly up towards her profile as though they could actively engage with her. Her brown hair flopped leisurely off her shoulders in messy tangles.

I turned to face her as I buttoned up my jacket, "Wouldn't you like to know?" My response was curt and dismissive but she pressed on, sitting up with a serious expression, snapping closed the fragile papers.

"Okay look, I've seen the way he's been treating you. I think I'm smart enough to recognize when someone is trapped in an abusive relationship. What's going on Madeleine? What happened after your Quidditch accident? People are saying you two got...married?" She looked sympathetic and disturbed, like she had just stepped in dog feces in high heels.

I looked at her, knitting my eyebrows together, "Ah and did anyone attend de wedding? I don recall getting married." I crossed my arms. She just stared at me with confusion.

"Okay...so why is everyone calling you a Malfoy? Why were you wearing clothing with that fucking crest all over it?" She stood from her bed accusatorially, holding her arms apart with aggressive questioning gestures, "Why does he follow you around like the worlds worst boyfriend?" She raised her eyebrows at me and threw the newspaper onto the ground. Her sentences had gradually become louder as she spoke, garnishing the amused attention of other girls in the room. 

I paused long enough to consider how to approach this. I had wanted this conversation for so long, and now that it had arrived it was like I was stuck in mud. I had no idea which direction to step in. Could I tell her everything honestly and hope that there would be no consequences from it? An image of Lucius' sadistic face hovered in my vision, imagining what he would do to me if I "embarrassed" his family name by pointing out that it was an extremely unhealthy, forced engagement.

I sucked on my bottom lip, feeling a wave of ambiguity crashing over my logic. I couldn't really be open and honest with her right there, in front of all of those prying eyes, "Walk? With me?" I questioned, and to my surprise she nodded and started throwing on layers haphazardly. I dismissed the notion of packing any research books on the mark, knowing full well that talking with Hilda would take precedence. When her hasty winter outfit resembled something that had been tossed sloppily over a child's backyard snowman we left the room, ignoring Pansy's giggling. 

Hilda and I descended to the bottom of the staircase leading to the green and silver common room and it was like a punch to my gut to see Malfoy sitting by the fire, preoccupied with a text of some sort. He seemed to never drop his game; sat there like a handsome sleeping dragon guarding the only exit from the dungeons. His pale grey eyes locked onto us like a magnet and I fought the urge to shoot a hex at him before he could stand.

Unfortunately, he did snap up without hesitation, his face scrunching into a dirty look of presage, grabbing an expensive looking black winter coat he had slung over the back of the leather chair. It was as if he knew I would try to go outside that day; god forbid I want some fresh air over the weekend without his contentious cologne infusing my senses. I mildly deliberated on how early he'd been up simply waiting there for my inevitable arrival. Blaise watched with a wicked grin from a nearby chair as Malfoy put his book down, never taking his eyes off of me.

Hilda in all her combative glory held her hand up like a stop sign when he tried to cut her off as she led us to the door, "Malfoy, you unprecedented prick! Step out of my way now or I'll have to shove my wand somewhere you definitely don't want it." Hilda stuck her nose up in forceful spirit and I felt pride welling in me.

He snorted, smiling a frown down at her as though she'd suggested he morph into a fart and blow away. For a moment I had an irrational fear that he might bite her fingers which were inches from his pointy nose, "I'd like to see you try. Although, don't threaten me with a good time." He dipped his head at her to fearlessly scan her eyes with his laser blue ones.

He was quite tall compared to both of us, dominating above Hilda's outstretched palm with athletic composure. His casual clothing was practical and clung to his toned frame with an intimidating factor. It looked like if we attempted to run a marathon to escape him he would keep up with us with little to no effort.

"We 'ave an understanding, Malfoy," I pushed around Hilda with newfound bravery, my long blond braid swinging around, "You cannot anymore control me. Go fuck yourself." My words were biting with French underscores. I'd had enough of being treated like an uncivilized, caged creature. Hilda looked from me to him and nodded approvingly.

He arched his eyebrow, "Ah, cute. Really scary. You're a natural Malfoy." He shot me down with a sideways grin from where I was glaring up at him. From the outside it appeared that he was being moderately flirty, but I had noticed the flash of violence that swept through his guise. It was the same look he'd given me in Narcissa's closet when I had refused to wear black to dinner. 

He straightened his coat pushing one arm seamlessly through the sleeve, the silver and green Malfoy crest gleamed in the dull lighting, "While you may be right, I am nevertheless, not barred from anywhere on these grounds. So girls, I'll be right behind you." He looked pitiless, gesturing towards the door as though our own plans were highly inconvenient to him.

Hilda's face became dark with disgust, "Fucking stalker." She quite literally pushed him aside and we left the dungeons, Malfoy walking slowly behind us with a bored expression about forty feet behind. At least he had the senses to leave a large gap, because not long afterwards Snape passed us on the stairs leading to the main floor. His eyes sunk into Malfoy with a threatening scrutiny as he momentarily slowed down, but he kept moving without saying a word. I supposed his physical reaction had been enough. Malfoy had made eye contact directly with him, then flitted directly to the floor in submission.

It was blindingly bright outside: the snow reflected every ray of sunshine in radial determination. Hilda took out a pair of monstrous muggle sunglasses and plastered them on her tanned face, taking in a deep breath of the polar temperatures, "Great Scott, I hate this season. Nothing to do but walk around lifelessly trying not to die from the shitty environment."

"Hmmm," I mused inattentively, rubbing at the crest on my neck. It was more painful than usual, like someone had thrown acid onto the already agitated area. I twisted my spine to take in Malfoy, who was staring at his shoes with his hands in his pockets about twenty meters back from where we were stood at the top of the hill outside of the castle walls. He didn't seem concerned that he would lose track of us by looking away. His white-blond hair was flopped over half of his face, gentle and loose that day. He was kicking at hardened snow like it had done something offensive to him. A group of first years noticed his infamous figure and took an absurdly large ark off the pathway to avoid his wrath. 

Hilda followed my gaze and groaned in aggravation, "That git can't do anything to you, Mad. He has to stay back there, don't worry about it. Let's just get to the lake so you can tell me what's going on between you two." She looped her gloved hand through my bent up elbow, pulling my hand away from my neck passionately. I complied to the gesture and we plunked down the steep trail trying not to slip on the neglected stone steps below. 

The lake indeed had not frozen over as Hagrid had suggested. Instead, it glistened in shivery peace under the intense sunlight, only freezing in tiny plates around the edges at the banks. Staring at the glittering body of water disappearing into the horizon brought back a familiar calm from the earlier days of my time at Hogwarts. We settled in underneath the massive oak that I had used to read underneath and spread out a thick blanket Hilda had rolled up under her arm. We adjusted our coats and huddled closely, even though it wasn't windy it was still the middle of the winter. When we had relaxed and settled in we both swiveled to peer around the landscape in search of our pursuer. My eyes landed on a tree within sight, much farther down the bank where he was leaning like a fallen branch and squinting out at the water, arms crossed.

"He's such a creep," Hilda complained, turning her oceanic eyes on me, "Is he just obsessed because he lost his virginity to you? Does he know that nobody stays with people they lose their virginity to?" She surveyed my face.

"I suppose, for Malfoy, it is dat way," I started in a quiet voice, picking up snow and forming little snowballs to hurl at the rocky shore.

Hilda imitated a retching noise in her throat. "Well, that's not acceptable. You don't just kidnap people, or force them to wear your family clothing, or stalk them on that premise. And you..." her eyes went down to the blanket morosely, "You've been letting the Malfoy's control you. What is really going on?"

I felt my heart lurch; there was no more avoiding it. Hilda came from one of the sacred British families and would surely recognize the mark. Without saying anything I pried my glove off of my hand and ripped my dark blue scarf from my neck. I gave her an engaging glance, then turned my head away from her, pulling aside the thick braid so that the Malfoy crest would be unmasked. I heard her gasp traumatically and forced my eyelids shut from mortification.

"I thought that was illegal!" She shrieked, ripping my chin towards hers, "They can't mark you! They can't! Wasn't it outlawed decades ago?" Her face had adapted a dangerous pink tone. 

I shrugged, looking down at my legs now shaking below me. Suddenly my throat felt tight, "He did not feel obligated to tell me until it was too late. I still don' know why, really. I am just, trapped." I gave in and felt water collecting in the brims of my eyes, one tear slowly made it's way down my cheek, prompting the sensation of an icy track against the skin.

Hilda reached across and wrapped her arms sideways across from my body and buried her face in my hood, "We can fix it. He doesn't get to just hijack your life like this. That unimaginable bastard! I had no idea it was this bad; I just thought you were being reckless and selfish and had pushed me away for a stupid boy." She rubbed my left arm with her hands and I let my head slump against her, staring at the water, feeling indignant and dirty. I could see him in the distance, crouched down on his heels and leaning against the tree. He was facing us now, intent, hands twisting in front of his knees.

I shut my eyes tightly to block out his image. "At...first," I choked on my words, "At first, he was not so terrible. But den, it changed...I don' recognize him anymore. Just cruelty. I am...how do you say? Petrified?"

Hilda pulled back with a newly sober expression, a picture of determination. She took my hands in hers, now up on her knees facing me, "I have an idea. Maybe, just maybe, we can bank on him being emotional. Drive him away from wanting you or drive him absolutely mad," She nodded her head, trying to follow my eyes that were wandering everywhere. I blurted out a weak laugh at the thought. "We'll make him hate you even more than he hated Astoria. We'll make him want to break the mark as much as we want it broken." 

"How? Can you even break dis mark? 'e said it's impossible," I looked up, wiping frigid tears from my face. My heart jumped up a few octaves from the dark place it had sunken away to deep in my chest.

Hilda's face twisted in a sly beam, "Oh well we have to try, Frenchness. In the meantime, let's just try to drive him insane. Take back all of the power." She winked and looked back over her shoulder at where he was crouched, watching like a graceful predator.

۞۞۞۞۞

Lunchtime had arrived in perfect cohesion with our return back to the castle, so we spared no hesitation heading straight for the Great Hall. I had fought not to look backwards for the entire walk up the hill at Hilda's suggestion. Don't give him anymore control over you Mad, don't look at him at all if you can avoid it, she'd said directorially. It was good advice, and now my energy was as high again as it had been before the crest. The reassurance that I had my best friend again shone through my lighter steps and our giggles while we walked.

We sat down at the table and I drew tea towards my frozen fingers greedily. Hilda dusted little sparkles of fallen snow off of her scarf before removing it. I took mine off as well, given that it now felt like a soggy snake around my neck. I pulled my hood up to a pile at my shoulders, covering my neck to conceal the mark.

Directly across from me Malfoy sat down statuesquely. I didn't look up to his face but rather recognized his long thin fingers and Slytherin ring and the scent of pine drifting across the wooden table separating us. He clasped his hands and I felt his eyes burning into my face as I swirled a spoon around in the tea. I supposed the move to sit near me shouldn't have been a shocker. The worst part about Snape's wary agreement to protect me from Malfoy's control was that it only extended so far into every day life. He couldn't stop him from sitting next to me, or across from me, or from following me from a distance... Thank god the girl's dorms were charmed to prevent the boys from entering them.

"Eh! Malfoy!" I heard Warrington slap Malfoy in the back, who's hands changed position to flatten on the table, "Quidditch tomorrow right?"

"Lost the schedule already, Warrington? I will only repeat myself once: yes, we are going out tomorrow. _All_ of us." His dark voice changed to my direction and my eyes flickered up uncontrollably. Snow had fallen down onto his lashes and he shook his hair with one hand to free the rest. He started tracing my features like it was the first time he'd ever seen my face, frowning slightly. Warrington wheezed at the obvious tension between the two of us.

Malfoy turned around to face him again, following my eyes to Warrington's laughing, "Not a word."

"Looks like you two could use some special counselling. Not getting everything you ever hoped and dreamed of between the sheets, Desrosiers?" Warrington said with a conniving tone, ignoring the blatant instructions not to react. The other boys and Pansy started laughing loudly at the table. 

Warrington put a hand recklessly on Malfoy's shoulder, looking me square in the eye with his hideous teeth barred, "I could always help you out there, if you want a more _mature_ experience." I fought back the instinct to spit my tea out in revulsion at the notion. The rest of the table lost their composure all together, but I had a sinking fear creeping into my stomach as the crest on my neck spiked in temperature again.

"Ha, ha, ha," Hilda mocked them back, saying every single word individually with emphasis. Her arm slid on the table as she turned to address the snickering crowd of Slytherins and I noticed my scarf had been pushed into the proximity of Malfoy. Shit.

Draco stood up rapidly from the table, his hand closed around Warrington's neck in one fluid motion as he pinned him to the hard, rough bricks behind, "You will _never_ insult my family again, is that clear?" The loud crack of skull on rock fetched the attention of at least half of the hall inhabitants, who before had all been clustered in small groups murmuring politely. Was he suggesting that I was his family? I felt myself going pale and grimacing.

To my relief he dropped his hand, allowing Warrington to choke and spit, sliding to the floor in a heap. Malfoy stormed out without saying anything else. My tea started spreading away from where it had been knocked over in the assault. I briefly surmised that Warrington's statement had genuinely been embarrassing, given that Draco had publicly just lost his virginity, and I certainly had provided no concrete feedback on his performance. Little did they know, he really wasn't a disappointment in that category. 

I snatched my scarf back to my side as though he were going to suddenly reappear and fight me for it. My fingers clasped down on an angular item that was now wedged into the fluffy blue fabric. Slowly I pulled out a sealed letter with the Malfoy crest stamped into it. The seal was black and ominous, and nothing was written on the cover of the envelope. Hilda's eyes drew down to the undesirable present and she growled, "Would he just bugger off already?"


	20. ﴾ Attendance is Mandatory ﴿

I tended to my plants that afternoon before resigning to the sleeping quarters for reading and to open the mysterious letter. I had figured it would be more private for me in the one part of the castle that Malfoy quite assuredly could not follow me into.

Before I headed up it was of course awkward when it came time to watering and pruning the larger plants I'd left down in the common room by the glass wall facing the lake. Draco seemingly felt absolutely no guilt whatsoever about assaulting Warrington. He had remained in the common room for hours afterwards, writing out assignments and keeping an eye on my behavior while ignoring the topic when other students confronted him about it. At one point our gazes accidentally met and he rolled his eyes, looking away with a scowl. Even when he scowled, he was handsome, I found myself thinking and then mentally kicked myself for letting the thought in.

I waited for nightfall to open the letter, despite Hilda's objections. I needed to know the information first and then I would decide how I felt about sharing it. She eventually gave in and closed her curtains for bed, leaving me feeling unnecessarily guilty. I closed my own silky green curtains and sat cross legged with the fancy envelope turning it over in my hands. It had an unbelievably heavy and malevolent energy oozing invisibly out of it, and my hands shook as I tore at the thick paper.

I slid out the letter, holding my breath with a pronounced grimace. The Malfoy Crest shimmered in the top corner.

With great honors, Mistress Madeleine Malfoy is requested for attendance on this coming day, Friday, January 15, 1999, for the annual Sacred Ball -a recently revived tradition.

The ball will take place at the Malfoy Manor, while the proposed dress code will be black tie.

Attendance is mandatory.

Sincerely,

Narcissa Malfoy

I blanked, squinting at the words repeatedly. This sounded like a very bad situation, and I had only just escaped the manor a matter of weeks ago with zero intention to return.

Attendance is mandatory.

The sentence didn't seem like typical invitational dialogue - perhaps Narcissa had scribbled in that last sentence signatory for me, knowing I would put up a fight. Was this some sort of elaborate trap set up by the Malfoy's? Had Draco been in contact with them about me being difficult? I pictured them luring me back to the property and locking me in the dungeons like a troll.

Since returning to the safety of Hogwarts I had sent at least five owls to my parents regarding the truth about my situation, the abuse, and the fear that I was experiencing. Since it seemed unlikely that any of the teachers could do anything to resolve the matter, I had point blank sent the last owl with a request for them to come and take me home. None of the owls had been returned - no response, no sudden visits from them. My family had seemingly abandoned me. My father was a stern man, albeit not nearly as reprimanding as Lucius, but he was still not so aristocratic and unreasonable as to force me into an arranged marriage. Especially one so terrifying. Or...was he?

My stomach felt sick. I knew they had similar base values regarding marriage to an acceptable pureblood, but it had always felt more like a religion than a law. A belief and an understanding that it would eventually work out in a respectful manner - that I always would have the choice about which pureblood boy that would be exactly. Neither my brother nor I had shown any objection towards the emphasized importance of it.

Draco Malfoy. That was the one I had "chosen", accidentally, by following my hormones and ignoring my rationale. That was probably what they believed. I felt a lighting strike of anxiety with the realization that they were probably told by the Malfoy's that I had known what I was doing. Perhaps all of the owls I had sent after the incident just looked like a childish and reckless girl, begging to be taken out of an irreversible mistake. That wouldn't be so far from my character. Perhaps the owls were simply embarrassing my father who in turn was ignoring me until I accepted my fate.

I crumpled up the invitation in my fist with hatred. I wouldn't go, unless Draco planned to drag me from the campus by my hair. I shuddered, realizing he would probably delight in such an instance. Maybe I could just drop out of my tower window with my broom, if I could ever wedge it open enough to squeeze my body through. Then I would start a new life as a hag in the woods.

۞۞۞۞۞

The next morning I was the first person at the Quidditch pitch. I perched myself on top of the highest goal hoop and watched the sunrise, furiously waiting for the captain to arrive and set up the field before the rest of the team. The snow was drifting down as large fluffy clusters, so slow it was almost standstill. It was such a peaceful scene that I had to keep reminding myself that I was supposed to be angry and ready for a battle.

I would confront him just like I used to. I was powerful, and I had to remember it. Whoever had come back defeated from that manor was a temporary blip in my existence.

He smartly walked into the middle of the field when he arrived minutes after me, dropping the trunk in the snow at his feet and looking up at me with judgement. His bright green robes were a blur from how high up I was, but his signature platinum hair confirmed his identity.

"Well come down, then." He shrugged with a straight face, "If you want any time to yell at me, I'd suggest you get moving." He bent his knees to open the trunk and started removing the violent sports equipment that defined the game.

I dropped like a rocket, landing adjacent to the trunk and tossing my broom away into the snow, "I will not attend ce ludicrous ball. I will never go back to dat repugnant place!" The volume of my voice compelled him to stand, sighing. He stared up at the snow coming down onto his forehead before exhaling heavily and sliding his eyes to me, bending his head at an angle to match my height. In the white environment his eyes presented as a dull, bright gray and I trained my sight to focus instead on the collar of his robe.

"What did I tell you about Lucius?" He pressed his mouth into a thin line, slightly frowning, "It's not some kind of elaborate trap. Believe me, if he wants you there personally, dead or alive, it won't be coming by means of a formal invitation. Don't make it come to that."

He waited, his face was serious, twisting the snitch in his gloved fingers as it let out barely audible squeaks of impatience; a thin metallic slicing through the air. I sensed somehow that he wasn't even trying to be threatening, wasn't lying. "Tell dem dat I am busy." I demanded.

"Can't, that's absurd. You are a Malfoy, and you're going without a fuss." His lip started curling into a familiar scowl as I could see his intolerance rising and he stepped towards me, filling in the space between us. I had to straighten my neck upwards to look into his face, looming over me. His hair was collecting snow and looking more spikey and damp, small droplets hitting his hood on his shoulders. My nostrils were bombarded by the smell of mint and pine.

"I don' have anyting to wear to dis, event. I cannot even go home." I stated in a huff, sliding my right boot back slightly.

He seemed to sense the movement and grabbed the center of my robes to hold me in place. A sinister half smile tugged at his lip and his eyes widened, "You can go naked for all I care. In fact, that sounds much more entertaining," his blue-grey eyes glinted at the concept, scanning down my body and I winced, "but you are going. Wouldn't want daddy dearest to have to come get you and drop you off at the Manor in pieces, would we?"

I felt my lip tremble from the vulgar insinuations. It had only been months before when I had had all of the power to manipulate him on that very field, seducing him into kissing me by playfully tackling him to the ground. Now as we stood there in the cold winter morning, him grabbing my robes and threatening me, a Malfoy crest tugging at my skin, I realized I had completely underestimated him.

He was probably right, though. If Lucius had to forcibly extract me from the castle the punishment could easily be torture or even death. I had no intention of testing his medieval forms of discipline, "Fine." The singular word was all I could bring myself to harshly mutter in the defeat. I could feel his warm, wet breath on my cheeks as his grip lessoned with his victory. Once again, I had been beaten down.

"Havin a morning snog?" Montague's pleased voice sliced into both of our focus. Malfoy released my robes and turned back to unpacking the trunk, but not before I noticed the faintest of a blush on his pale cheeks, or maybe it was just the cold temperatures getting to him.

"Don't start with me today, Montague," Malfoy curtly replied as he released the snitch and reached for the bludgers. He seemed to already be expecting the remark, a hint of dread seeping into his response. I took inventory of the arriving boys and noticed that Warrington was nowhere to be seen.

As if on cue, Montague retorted, "Oh right, you plan to split my skull in half as well then?" His face was flooded with entertainment as he ran his brown eyes up and down my robes.

Draco was standing now, placing himself partially in front of my stance, "If you so much as look at her, if any of you have anything to say about her, then I'll do a lot more than split your fucking thick heads." He was visibly breathing hard, his finger pointed directly at Montague's chest for extra measure.

I watched in horror as Montague completely missed the point, similar to Warrington the day before. The rest of the boys shuffled around in the awkward silence that followed, and I found myself immensely grateful that my position was so independent from the rest of the team and didn't require any communication to win the game.

He twirled his black chipped broom around in sarcastic circles, chuckling derisively, "Keeping her locked up like a house elf then? Not gonna share in all the French fun? That's a bit selfish of you don't you think, the only Veela at our school all for yourself," he snorted with a sickening look on his face. He wanted a fight with Malfoy, clearly, who was now holding the bludger so hard in his hand that the material in his glove was flexing inwards, "Never saw you as being such a jealous type. Some of us think it's high time it be brought up."

Montague was slowly circling Malfoy now, and the rest of the team stood agape at the bold standoff. It was far too early in the morning for such dramatics, the sun had only just come up. I gulped and took several steps back cognizant of the fact that all of the men there were huge compared to me, causing Malfoy's eyes to rapidly glance back at my position and then return to Montague.

"Is that a challenge?" Malfoy's voice was dangerously low, lower than I had ever heard it. The acid in his words sent shivers down my spine. I fully expected him to toss the bludger at Montague, "Let me get this straight, you second class scum. You think I should share my future wife with you, or anyone else? Not very sanitary if you ask me. And besides, my family can afford the best. Your family shouldn't even be caught staring at a Veela."

Montague had now reached a position in his rotation around Malfoy that placed him in my direct pathway and Draco moved swiftly, putting his arm out straight protectively across my chest. His robes blew into my face blocking most of my vision, his heel mere inches from stepping down onto my own foot. I battled with the instinct to grab onto him like a helpless child, my heart beating from the mere look on Montague's savage face. Malfoy was consistently rude and verbally aggressive with me, but nothing like the other boys who seemed to have rapist and sadistic agendas, growing apparently worse by the day.

"You think she would've even talked to you if you hadn't drugged her like an animal? Maybe I should've tried the same thing myself before you had your chance to fill her up and mark her with that pathetic crest," Montague jabbed, swirling his broom like a sword now. He took a step forward, now perhaps four feet from Draco, who stepped into me pushing me backwards with him. This time I did grab his robes but he didn't acknowledge it; I could see how lethal and concentrated his expression was from the half of his face in my sight.

He snorted maliciously, "You couldn't drug a dugbog to have sex with you, Montague. The girl is claimed, go fuck your pillow if you can't control your needs." He raised the bludger, tossing it up and down in precision control, darning a poisonous glare. The warning lingered in the air for a few moments as Montague's eyes flicked back and forth between the bludger, Draco, and my half hidden form behind him, seeming to calculate how to further advance.

He brazenly took another step forward and I felt Draco freeze this time instead of stepping back.

"Why don't we just, flip a coin on it. Or even better," he licked his lips and took another step, grabbing his crotch suggestively as I dug my fingers into the back of Draco for protection, "rent her out every once in a while like the cheap whore she is," he leaned slightly to put my face in his view and winked at me with a murderous look, before the bludger collided with the side of his face and blood sprayed everywhere like a fire hydrant. The bludger growled loudly and came down again on Montague's collapsed form, directly into his rib cage, and then again and again.

"Stop et!" I shrieked in horror finally finding my voice in the chaos, and Draco reached out and snapped it out of the air before it could assault Montague a fourth time.

Montague was on the ground screaming in agony, his face unrecognizable from the multiple openings oozing with blood. The white snow in at least a 10 foot radius was stained a horrific collage of reds and pinks, scattering freckles of evidence of the encounter. Malfoy spun on the spot and my hands were ripped free from his robes with the movement, "Leave!" He roared at the rest of the team, who started running up the hill or mounted their brooms to escape. "And Flint, you come back with Pomfrey!" Marcus Flint nodded with a pale expression as he turned to follow the other boys.

I stood in shock, shaking and now beginning to sob, looking at the blood spray across myself and Malfoy. His eyes followed mine and he sighed, pulling me into his chest. Against my better judgement I gripped him tightly, turning my head away from his robes to avoid adding more blood to my face than already was.

Montague's yelping and crying in the background tore through the Sunday morning like we were in the middle of an active warzone.

Malfoy pushed me back from him by both of my shoulders and looked into my frantic eyes, "Madeleine, let's go back to the dorms. You need to calm down." There was blood running down his temples, his platinum hair stained bright red from being at the forefront of the incident.

"How long...he wanted to..." I pointed a shaky finger at Montague rolling on the ground and gasping for air, "rape..." The last word came out hardly a whisper and I couldn't finish the thought. I no longer even felt safe in the Slytherin dormitory.

Malfoy was studying my face with a grim expression, seemingly sensing this realization, as he chose his words carefully, "He deserved it, trust me. And I promise, no one is going to lay a finger on you. I won't stop at what happened today if I have to make my point." He looked serious and physically ill from the odd provision of affection he was giving me, but I could tell he was being sincere.

I observed him lift his wand from his robes and scourgify the blood from both of us, showing more patience for my crying than I had ever experienced before. I wiped at my now cleaned face, nothing save for salty tears against my skin.

"We have to go now," he said as he rubbed my shoulders to calm me, "I don't want to be here when they get here, but I can't leave you with this maniac." I buried my face in his chest instead of moving and wrapped my arms tightly around him, hearing him sigh but place his glove on my hair and pet it softly. He let it go on for several more minutes, eventually resting his sharp jaw on the crown of my head in defeat. I could feel him fighting his impatience in the way he stiffly accepted the hug.

I held him with immense divide in my instincts, probably having just reached a mental breaking point and needing a hug from anyone at all. On one hand he was the boy who had just been taking his own jabs at me that very morning not an hour before. He was the boy who had trapped me in a marriage and was stalking me around. No, I shouldn't have been hugging him at all.

On the other hand, I thought back to when he and I had been intimate, the gentle and respectful way he'd allowed me to choose how far we went. The passion in his kisses, the way he'd let me sleep in his bed at the manor instead of my scary one. Without thinking I pulled back and pressed my lips into his cheek, wrapping my arms around his neck, "Thank you," I muttered in a high pitched, weak whisper, instantly regretting it, knowing I was reacting emotionally and not logically to the trauma that had just occurred.


	21. ﴾ Mustache ﴿

Monday came in a flurry; I had spent the rest of Sunday wasting time in the showers and in my bed, dreading the hug and kiss I had given to Draco and fearing the Slytherin boys. I left only to try and send another owl to my parents, this one more grounded, hoping they would respond. 

The guilt was unbelievable as I rendered all of the possible consequences of what I had done. Would he think I was weak now? Would Malfoy think I was now a willing prisoner, suffering from some messed up version of Stockholm Syndrome?

I'd eventually given in and told Hilda the entire story, starting with the bizarre ball summoning, then the fights at the Quidditch pitch and ending with the kiss. She had groaned in repulsion and scorned me greatly for my stupidity, but in the end showed some form of wary sympathy. I was mildly concerned that she was eventually going to conclude that I was an insane person.

Draco had not made it awkward for me, just stood there and took the physical affection like one of the Queen's soldiers. When I had pulled away his eyes were shut tightly, and he'd said nothing else to me the rest of the day. We'd walked back up the path silently, him leaving me at the Slytherin common room entrance and then vanishing to explain himself to the school authorities.

I was shocked when I'd reached the bottom of the stairs and not found him waiting for me. It was the first day in weeks that I'd been able to walk to class on my own, but he was missing from Potions that morning as well. He was also missing from meal times and all of the other classes that we shared together, for several days. I eventually heard from Pansy and Blaise that he'd been sent home for the week on detention in response to the Quidditch incident.

My mind and body slowly began to ease itself with the freedom, the only thing still weighing me down being the malignant glares from some of the older Slytherin boys who were closely connected to Warrington and Montague, including Crabbe and Goyle. Zabini simply maintained a curious squint at my every move.

On Thursday I was startled by Hilda running into the Great Hall at lunch. She was gripping a piece of parchment high above her head and slid into the space next to me with such fervor that she knocked a younger year girl at least a foot out down the way.

"I have news!" She trilled without any discretion.

"Oh I had not guessed so," I grinned at her, obviously referring to her dramatic entrance.

"Guess what? I'm coming to check out your future mansion," she elbowed me hard in the ribs, causing me to drop my fork, "I can't believe it never occurred to us before, but the _Sacred Ball?_ Duh, it's like, every Sacred family in Britain. My parents sent me a letter saying to get ready for tomorrow." She squealed and hugged me.

Pansy barked a loud laugh, licking her spoon seductively as she purposely failed to meet our eyes, "A Fawley at the Malfoy's, that should be a funny joke. Oh and let's not forget about our little Greengrass friend," her eyes hovered over me, "I'm sure she'll be delighted to meet her replacement face to face." My stomach filled with anxiety at just the thought.

Friday morning I was acutely reminded that we were dismissed from all classes so we could leave early for the Manor. Hilda had me up well before 8am, ripping open my curtains to show me dozens of dress options. I finally pointed gingerly at the option I was sure she was going to pick anyways and felt relief when the violation of my tired mind came to a close, as she agreed and packed it away.

"So you're not even going to pack anything besides your typical garb? Won't they like, I don't know, melt you on the spot?" She asked, shooting me a worried frown as I laid on my bed flipping through a textbook absentmindedly.

I shrugged, "Fuck dem."

"Hmph," Pansy remarked across the room, stuffing several dresses into her travel trunk, "They'll probably obliviate her and keep her chained in the kitchens to cook with the elves for all eternity." Her dark bob was bouncing in perfect harmony with her steps as she moved around, grabbing all sorts of beauty items. Hilda sent a revulsed look in her direction.

After forcing myself to pack at least something, underwear, sleeping clothing, books to read, floo powder in a secret compartment in case I was trapped there again, we lugged our things down the round stair case. My jaw dropped when I almost ran directly into Malfoy as I had been leading the pack and he was waiting on the bottom stair, dressed in the black suit he wore at the so often.

"Good," his eyes shot to my luggage, which was actually just a forgery of preparedness, "You're coming in the Malfoy carriage." He physically grabbed my hand to drag me but the touch was too intimate and we both inhaled, frozen. I looked at him with wide eyes, wondering if he had meant instead to grab my wrist in our typical fashion. 

Hilda clapped a hand to her mouth to prevent the imminent giggle, but it was too late and she let it slip, "Ha!" I felt my own lip tremble as I kept direct eye contact with Draco. Hilda always made me laugh uncontrollably and vice versa. I stifled a short giggle by wrinkling my nose and Draco became completely uncomfortable, looking away and dropping my fingers. He ran a hand through his hair and stared at the floor.

Pansy shoved past all three of us in irritation, ensuring that her shoulder banged into Draco hatefully, "Keep your affections to yourself, Malfoy."

"Parkinson," he said darkly, and for a moment I felt a pang of anxiety. Had he just responded with a similar tone? I knew Pansy had been jealous of his other relationships since I'd met her, but never had seen anything concrete in the form of there being an actual history between the two. 

"WELL," Hilda bellowed obnoxiously between the three of us to break this tension, "Malfoy, why don't you just lead the way since we all know your stalker arse is going to force us to walk with you anyways."

He glanced at her with cool eyes, looking exhausted by her presence already. "Gladly," was all he said as he led us out towards the pick up area. The walk down through the woods was characterized by Hilda and I ranting about nonsense while Malfoy kept his eyes to the snow, looking unusually glum. 

When we stopped in front of lines of carriages, he pointed at the familiar Malfoy crest painted onto a gold and black carriage. Hilda and I stood there staring and his face became stony, searching between our reactions, "Fawley isn't coming with us." His voice was admonitory and he stole another glance at Hilda through sideways eyes.

"Oh come on, _darling,_ please?" I begged in a taunting voice. I wanted the company of Hilda for two reasons, one being that I was fond of her companionship, and two being that I dreaded the idea of being alone with Malfoy for hours on end in the very carriage that had been so traumatizing before.

I searched his face with a genuine pout, gripping the handle of my trunk when the driver came to relieve me of it.

"Mistress Malfoy? May I take your things?" The old, frail looking man asked politely as I swung the handle away from his wrinkled, outstretched hand. Draco's face became livid at the disobedience and he shook his head at me like he was attempting to liquify me. Hilda snickered unapologetically, whispering _Mistress Malfoy_ under her breath.

He straightened his suit with a deep frown, hand gesturing to Hilda's discomposure, "You really expect me to endure this, _for hours?"_ I knew he was referring to our incessant laughing fits, but I honestly couldn't care. In fact, it would be a gift from heaven if he were to lose his mind on the journey and get sent to St. Mungo's. 

"Why don't I just go in de Fawley carriage and I'll see you there?" I ventured, leaning on Hilda.

"Not a chance. You think I'm that daft? You'll never show up." He was scowling again, his eyes turning black with rage and impatience. The old driver left with Malfoy's briefcase hastily, not sure of when I was planning to surrender my own luggage.

"Get in the carriage, Madeleine, or so help me-"

"Hilda is coming," I cut him off, stomping my foot. My freshly cleaned blond waves bounced with the action. Hilda was starting to notice Malfoy's darkening mood and I could see her leaning away slightly, looking skeptical of the outcome. His nostrils flared as he pointed lasers through my golden eyes.

He finally spoke, his face pinched tightly with unconcealed fury. "Very well, but I'm going to make myself clear," he spun to face us both fully, his walking cane coming down onto the brick pavers with a metallic thud between our bodies. Hilda jumped, having been less exposed to his mannerisms than me, "There will no outbursts. There will be _no_ giddiness, or toying around, or distracting Ackley."

Hilda maintained a steady voice for once and I felt relieved at the successful effort, "Who's Ackley?" She asked. 

We both fought to not snort at the basic question which seemed so humorous under the intensity of his blue orbs. Draco looked alarmed already, narrowing his eyes between our faces, but turned to point the cane wordlessly at the elderly driver who was now returning with deep nervousness.

Ackley took our luggage with a gentle grin, his white mustache ruffling. We all piled into the carriage, Malfoy and I on one side while Hilda sprawled across her own entire seat. I saw Draco's eyes flit to her shoes which she didn't remove in the process, but he held his tongue. 

The first part of the trip was surprisingly tame and quiet. Several hours went by as Hilda and I read our own books, and Draco slowly fell asleep against the window. It was then that I noticed how burnt out he looked in the innocence of his sleep. His eyes were dark and it almost looked like he wasn't breathing he was so deep in a dream. Even the bouncing of the solid wood carriage against his blond locks didn't wake him up.

Hilda traced my gaze to his unconscious form, "You know, he's almost handsome when he looks dead." 

I laughed, the first laugh to erupt in the carriage. The can of worms had been opened, and Hilda snorted, "We should draw a mustache on him." My eyes shot to the ground as I tried to suppress my reaction to the suggestion.

"Do you think he's faking being asleep so he can catch us misbehaving?" She pondered, grabbing his cane from it's perch next to him and cautiously prodding his chest. He didn't even flinch.

"I don' know, I don' think so," I said with my hand over my mouth, a shred of fear was perched on my heart as she prodded and I imagined him grabbing the cane and hitting her mercilessly in return. "He prefers to be aggressive."

"Yeah, fuck he sure does, little prick," she nodded as she dug around in her small bag hanging from her hip, producing the bottomless flask she always had at parties. "Let's pre-drink. I'm bored."

I shook my head, "We cannot. Dat is too scary. His father ees...particular."

She waved a hand and took a large gulp as I cringed with wide eyes, "All of our families will be there, you really think he's going to single you out? Your turn, Frenchness." She held out the shiny silver container. I glanced over at Draco, who lay like a corpse with his face half hidden by his hair. What the heck.

I took it and gulped. We went back and forth for at least thirty minutes, gradually getting louder and more ridiculous as the time flew by. The landscape had predominantly subsided into massive farmers fields. It seemed like endless horizons of lifeless, flat snowy expanses sleeping for the winter. Finally Hilda turned and unhinged the window dividing her back from the driver's coach. She carefully stuck her entire head through the hole, then reappeared with an expression of relief on her dainty features. Agonizingly and slowly the carriage came to a halt.

"I had to pee," she explained, her eyes trained on the sleeping dragon in the corner as she silently pulled at the door handle, "Be quiet. Let's both go so we don't die on our way there."

I grimaced, but she was right. I had to go really badly from the alcohol. Without a sound we managed to escape the confines of the Malfoy mobile, and run to a tree out in the middle of a nearby field. We were laughing freely as we pulled up our dresses and bounced through the thick snow. Several other pureblood carriages on the same route came to a stop behind ours, displeased faces peering out the windows with annoyance at the cause.

When we had come back to the carriage, I stuck my face against the glass and peered in, flattening my nose. Malfoy hadn't moved a muscle. Hilda smacked my head gently, "Oh Merlin's beard Madeleine, what if he had seen you like that all mushed up on the glass?" We wheezed for a few seconds at the image, then we climbed back into place mutely and the horses marched onwards. 

We maintained low voices for the next twenty or so minutes out of fear that he had woken up and was eavesdropping. We stole guilty snickers at each other as we kept sipping. Finally, Hilda poked at him again with the cane that had become a bit of toy, and when nothing happened we let our volume return to normal.

"How is he in bed? You know..." she opened her mouth with a saucy expression, pointing downwards, "His, you know?"

I refrained from saying anything out loud for fear that he would overhear. Instead I took a large gulp of the fire whiskey, and then spread my fingers apart to show the distance in the air in front of my face.

She laughed coyly at the measurement, "Oh what, no way! I don't believe you!" I shrugged and I bit my lip. She evaluated him looking impressed and my smile dropped slightly, out of irrational jealousy. "If I was being forced to marry that, maybe you know, it wouldn't be so bad. He's kinda cute, really though."

"Mustache, let's do dat," I said too loudly, hoping to distract her from the far off look she was suddenly giving him. I pulled my wand from my purse and guardedly waved it over his bare lip, trying with great energy not to slip and poke him in the face. Hilda let out a loud crack before I could finish the second half and my arm dragged straight across, leaving one half curled properly and one half straight over his lip in a mish-mash of two types of mustaches. 

"Madeleine!" She was wailing and I fell off of the chair trying not to piss myself from the crime in front of me, "Madeleine...Mad- it's pitch black, you drew it the wrong color he looks like a creep." Tears were running down each of our faces as I struggled to get back into mine and Draco's seat. The road had grown bumpy and I recognized the forested section from the previous trip. We were on the final hour of the journey.

Suddenly he was stirring from the commotion and we both let out guilty gasps. My long blue dress was pinned under my foot and kept tripping me as I tried to get back in the seat. His face turned away from the window just as Hilda grabbed me by my neck and threw me across into my chair. He groaned, but his eyes stayed shut. The mustache was now the central focus of the carriage and we were both wheezing through our hands. 

"We are nearly der," I finally choked out, " We should try to calm down."

"Not a chance! The party hasn't even started yet," Hilda whined. "Let's open the roof and stick out our heads."

I rolled my eyes - she was the worst possible influence on me. Especially around my lethal fiancée. But I was fairly wasted at that point so I helped her undo the latch and we stuck out our arms and heads, laughing and smiling with glee. Cold air flooded into the small space below us. The driver in the carriage behind the Malfoy carriage started waving sheepishly when suddenly I felt a sharp tug and my head popped back into the cabin. 

I was met with steely blue eyes. He'd grabbed me by my dress, directly between my breasts so that our faces were very close. My knees were down on the seat between his legs, where he'd moved into the center of the chair to snag me. I smiled at him like a goof and tried not to look down at the fake mustache that hovered in my peripherals.

"Care to explain?" He said shortly, his voice was silky but irate. I was suddenly smacked with the realization that if I opened my mouth this close to his face, he would immediately smell the booz. I sucked my plump lips inwards and shook my head fervently. My hair was draped over my shoulders in long messy waves that I tried to retreat deeper into.

"Oh shit," I heard Hilda look down at my disappearance. She shut the roof and sat back, her head lulled along the back of the seat with a loopy expression, "Let her go Malfoy, I've never been one to watch live pornography."

He leaned around me to narrow his eyes, "Yeah, I'm sure you've had plenty of opportunities," he said sarcastically. I put my hands on his knees to twist away and turned to see Hilda struggling violently not to react to the mustache, her eyebrows were almost vanishing into her hairline.

"Well..." Hilda said through tight, quivering lips as her eyes darted from mine to his, "Given the state of Madeleine's neck, I'd say you've had less than me." 

He used one hand to drag me down next to him, seated appropriately now but crammed into the third of the chair that I had. My leg overlapped his, the light blue fabric spilling into his lap. I stared at my hands with wide eyes, trying to get my hyperactivity under control. He was scowling between us, furious, "This is precisely what I didn't want. You two can't control your lunacy around each other. Give me the liquor." He leaned towards Hilda, already knowing exactly who the instigator had been, his wide palm outstretched. His eyes were dripping with warning, like Hilda and I were two toddlers that had just painted the interior of the house. The line that ran up between his eyebrows when he was angry was especially exaggerated. 

I tried not to focus on the warm hand that was down behind my back and tightly around my waist while he took the flask from Hilda and threw it straight out the window. He smelled good, his stern behavior was turning me on in a nonsensical way all of a sudden. I felt his fingers shifting their grip on me with every bump of the carriage. He leaned back against the chair, not giving me any more space and glared at Hilda. He shifted his arm up behind my neck and his hand pulled me against him tightly around my shoulders, like a prized possession. My heart lit on fire.

"Hilda," his deep, scornful voice cut through the tension, "Madeleine needs to impress my parents for her own safety. Don't distract her tonight." I felt the giddiness fade away with the statement. Hilda shrugged with the same look of deflation and just looked out the window for the remaining trip.

I felt him lean into my ear, "Talk to me. How much did you drink? "His breath running down my neck made me blink from the shivers.

"A lot," I weakly muttered, turning to face him and felt his nose hit mine before he shifted the angle of his face.

"Mmmm, I can smell it. Not good," And I could smell his fresh breath on my lips, _not good_. In my drunken haze I almost pushed our lips together, "You need to sober up. Follow me when we get there and try not to speak to anyone. We'll hide you in my room until you're acceptable." His eyes were matching mine with a blank look. I mentally concluded that there was more than 10 different shades of blue in the striking combination.

When the carriage arrived, a young well dressed man about our age opened the door. Hilda stepped out and dragged her fingers provocatively along the boys collarbones, his face turning a shade of bright pink. I stepped out next, gripping the door to remain stable, feeling Malfoy's fingers around my waist to guide me down the tiny stairs. I silently prayed that neither Narcissa or Lucius were witnessing any part of this arrival. When Draco was on the gravel, straightening his suit, the young valet man stood gasping at him.

"Something hilarious?" Draco leered at him callously.

"I...I just have never seen a mustache like that before, Mr. Malfoy." The valet boy's face was white as he picked words that were the least likely to have him decapitated.

"What-" he briefly narrowed his eyes at the boy before his head swung around and he raised an angry eyebrow at Hilda and I, standing there trying not to cackle.


	22. ﴾ The Date Has Been Set ﴿

The Malfoy Manor loomed beyond the gates like a stone beast. I had been there before, but it felt like a fever dream to be arriving in the middle of the day, the sunshine beamed down on the bright patches of snow collecting on the balconies and roofs. The carriages were pulling up rapidly, and after Malfoy had banished the fake mustache and silenced our hysterical laughter, we sauntered towards the building slowly. Other people were moving much faster, but unfortunately my drunkenness was becoming a major problem for my gait as I struggled to walk independently, casually grabbing at perfectly squared off hedges for assistance.

"Look at her," he was saying with disdain, as he reached out for the fourth time in a two minute period of walking to steady me, "You've really outdone yourself this time, Fawley. I don't know how you're going to top this event, maybe just go straight to liver failure next time." His voice was moving in and out of my ears at different volumes as I struggled to straighten my vision.

I heard Hilda dismiss him, strolling along casually like a character straight out of the Great Gatsby, "Oh, whatever Malfoy. The girl will harden up over time. She's having a ton of fun, a word you should learn."

"You call this fun?" he said as he lost his patience and wrapped his arm permanently around my waist, tugging me hard against his side with no choice but to practically drag me. His hand was firmly planted across my stomach. I reached my arms around him misunderstanding the gesture, and hazily hugged him sideways with a stupid grin on my face. He stopped, huffing with edginess, pushing my hands down, "Madeleine, can you please pay attention? We have to make it quite a bit farther."

"Jesus Malfoy, you're completely useless," Hilda scolded him, fishing around in her purse. A group of wealthy looking adults passed by us on the long gravel pathway, shooting Malfoy dirty looks of confusion. "Here," Hilda said, holding out a glass vile of white powder, "This will wake her up right away."

Malfoy stared in disbelief, "You're a fucking drug addict. You need help." He pushed the vile away and turned back to me, trying to pry my fingers out from his undershirt. He gave up on that approach, grabbing my face with both hands so I would look up at him. I blinked as the sun seared right into my watery eyes.

"Madeleine. Listen to me. This is serious. Can you walk independently right now? Do you know where we are?" His voice was laced with growing panic as he searched my face for any indication of consciousness.

I pressed my eyes shut and stuffed my face into his chest where everything was warm and smelled good. _Fuck_ I heard him whisper through the vibration of his ribcage on my cheek.

"Okay Malfoy, you wanna stop being so stuck up so we can get on our way?" Hilda asked, her voice shaking from the cold temperature.

"What's in it?" He growled.

"All the good stuff, wizard grade of course. Sorry, it's all I can offer right now."

There was a long pause, I felt his chest rising and falling and his heart sped up, "Is she going to be normal tonight? Could it kill her?"

Hilda laughed dreamily, "Oh she'll be fantastic. No chance she'll die, she might even be so charming that she becomes the center of attention. I had been saving it for my own nerves tonight, but clearly she needs it more than me now."

"Fine." Malfoy shuffled and I pulled my face back from the motion, blinking in the brightness as I watched a portly wizard our age lumbering down the lane backwards so he could inspect us, "How does she need to take it?"

Hilda bent down into my face with a kind grin, "Oh, Frenchness. You don't deserve this, you're already too pretty, it's unfair." She looked back at him, "she should snort it."

Malfoy looked positively enraged, "No, no chance."

"Relax, it's Felix Felicis, powdered of course. Much easier to transport and take in smaller quantities." She shrugged, sending a dirty defensive glare at another group of ogling passers by.

I felt a strong hand lift my face up and suddenly I was face to face with his pale blue eyes again. He was shaking as he pushed me back against the bush, looming over me, his leg moving between mine to steady my wavering form, "Pay attention: you need to snort this right now so we can go inside. We have to be discrete. I'm going to put it on the bridge of my nose and we're going to pretend we're kissing. You're going to snort it. We only have one chance." His frown spoke volumes to his doubt that it would actually work.

I nodded, squinting at him. Snort. Got it. No, wait what?

"Okay, don't move," his voice was papery as he shook his hair around his face to mask the action as much as possible, and quickly tapped the bottle along the bridge of his nose, his eyes crisscrossed, wide with concentration. Then he wrapped his arms around my waist and dipped his face towards mine. My heart started fluttering uncontrollably. I had almost forgot what we were doing when I felt his nose tap against mine. I snorted the fiery powder and my nose exploded like a bomb. I coughed and he pulled back, searching my face for reassurance. There was some remaining powder along his nose - it looked like he had spread sunscreen there.

My energy rocketed from zero to one hundred in the matter of a minute. I stood gracefully suddenly, pushing him off me and grabbing the hem of my dress, "Thanks, Draco." I heard myself coo at him with unusual flattery, my eyelashes literally batting. His eyes widened and his eyebrows shot up.

"You should really see your face right now," Hilda chuckled, as we both turned to walk up to the manor with confidence and poise, Draco stood glued to his spot next to the bushes. I felt like a dream, filling suddenly with egotistical arrogance; I was the most beautiful, sophisticated female there. I was perfection; the golden girl, fiancée to the Slytherin prince. I winked at Hilda and she looked incredibly pleased, "That's my Frenchie. Knock em' dead."

۞۞۞۞۞

Inside, the dark manor was beginning to buzz. There were far more candles than when I had been there last, and clusters of large white flowers everywhere. Dozens of wealthy people were milling around in ball gowns and suits, drinking and socializing in the massive foyer. Draco caught up to us in the doorway still looking thrown off. He grabbed at my waist and I pushed him off with a direct look.

"Do-do you still need to come to my room or are you stable?" He was tripping on his words, unheard of. His eyes were scanning every part of my body in awe.

"She's fine," Hilda brushed him off, "We're going to get changed. Go...be angry, or whatever it is you're into." She ripped at my arm and I followed her without giving him a second glance.

We were weaving between snippy looking guests towards the central stair well. I desperately searched faces to see if I would recognize anyone but found no luck, "Hilda, do you even know where we are supposed to change?" I queried suspiciously, pulling back on her arm.

She smiled, "Nope. But you do. Take the lead."

I did just that, following a strong gut instinct to climb to the second level. I turned around corners until we'd reached a short hallway, where a bunch of girls were sorting through the trunks, piled in the dead end across from two double doors. Pansy was leaning against the wall with a flat expression, watching girls in front of her try to locate their luggage.

She looked up at us as we approached, "I have to say, I thought you were going to make a bed out of those hedges, Desrosiers. It was a good show. Poor Draco must be dying of embarrassment." She flashed a wicked smirk.

I ignored her and smartly jabbed my hand under two trunks, finding mine lurking mysteriously below. I located Hilda's with equal lightning speed and then we were in the massive room where girls were changing into glittering gowns, putting on makeup and styling their hair.

It was at that moment that my attitude did a complete 180 degree spin regarding the need to pack an actual ball gown. I took inventory of the gorgeous sparkly dresses of all shapes and shades and instantly wanted to kick myself for being so stubborn earlier. I would embarrass the Malfoy's if I went back down in the tea dress I was currently in. Hilda watched my face, reading my mind, "Oh, don't be ridiculous. You're not going in that. I brought you something, I knew this would happen. Come over here this corner's not taken!"

She went to the far corner and repositioned an ornate, maroon partition so it provided more privacy and dug around in her trunk, lifting out a white, glittering mass. It unfurled in front me and I realized how utterly jaw dropping it was - an A line cut tight at the waist, long lace sleeves and lace up to the neckline, it was white as snow with gold glittering down the lower part of the gown like speckles of expensive, alluring dust.

"Hilda, it is spectacular!" I gasped.

She looked at the garment nonchalantly like it was a paper bag she'd just discovered in the street, "I'd wear it myself, but to be honest it just makes me sad. It was my mother's wedding dress...she passed away last year and I can hardly stand to look at it." She held it out to me, "It's yours now."

"I cannot..." I blushed, but trailed off feeling uneasy as she shoved it into my hands.

"You _can,_ and you _will_ ," she dictated, as she bent back down to dig out another equally stunning black dress for herself. She looked at me straight in the face as she was unzipping her clothing to change, "You recall our little conversation about that brat downstairs? We need to stay focused. He's already starting to break. Honestly I thought he was going to faint earlier when you purred at him out by the hedges."

۞۞۞۞۞

Almost an hour later we stood inspecting ourselves at the wall which was a head to toe mirror, expansive, making the room appear twice the size. Similar to what one might find in a ballet studio. There was about a dozen girls dripping like fine wine in expensive fabrics, most of them Slytherin from the faces I could recognize.

I was acutely of the impression that I had transformed into a goddess, twirling around in the gown with egotistical confidence that normally never occurred to me. My golden eyes were dark and light simultaneously, with gold glitter sprinkled across my face, and my long loose hair was filled with tiny golden butterflies, gently pinching their wings and glinting in the light. Briefly, I thought back to the house elf's disgust with me for wearing anything but black on the Malfoy property, but tonight was completely different. He'd surely be blind before midnight.

Hilda looked on the other hand like my evil twin. She stood as though the queen of hell with the blackest dress I'd ever seen, it appeared to be absorbing any tendrils of light that passed over it. The cut and style of dress was similar, save for the fact that hers was open in the back and her skin showed provocatively low. She'd gone and twisted a black metal headpiece into the front of her straightened brown hair that resembled a crown of thorns.

"Well aren't we prepared to fight over the world?" She remarked with a sly grin and I nodded, "Let's get going. I'll need to manually retrieve champagne tonight because that little fuck threw away my flask." I lifted up my dress with both hands to avoid tripping as I followed her out.

As we approached the familiar ballroom entrance on the second floor, I was stunned to find that I felt no nervousness whatsoever. Instead I was walking with a seductive sway, feeling eyes dragging along with me as I passed by them, and relishing it. The large silver double doors with the falling leaves were both thrown open against the wall. Guests were packed at the entrance, moving slowly inside.

When we'd finally pushed through the bottle neck - Hilda stopping briefly to cuss at a drunken man who'd stepped on her long train - she demanded we go to the bar in the closest corner. I rolled my eyes, but obliged her, not intending to join in after my close call on the walkway.

She leaned over the bar to place a request with the thin, mustached man behind the counter. I faced the opposite way out into the ball watching couples lightheartedly dancing. Others were seated at the wingback chairs socializing at tables with dark green cloth. My elbows leaned gracefully on the counter behind me, my back slightly arched as I scanned for any of the hosts in the crowd. The dusty rose hues found on the wallpaper and in the ancient, drab carpets seemed slightly brighter that evening. The ceiling was shrouded by a charmed cloudy night sky. Little stars rotated around slowly like a miniature model of the galaxy. My eyes rested on the piano, which was playing itself.

"Are you out of your mind?" I heard him before I saw him. Draco pushed through the crowd with a look of heated bewilderment across his face at finding me near the liquor, reaching out to grip my shoulder, "If you think you're drinking anything else tonight then I'll personally lock you upstairs." The threat was filled with desperation, even though he'd obviously meant it to be stern. I lazily scanned his formal wear, the tuxedo and bow tie, how incredibly proper he held himself with a straight spine. He looked like an evil Ken doll.

"Draco, kindly don' grab me against my will again. I will not tolerate it," I unflinchingly slipped out of his fingers, watching his face contort, "And enough of dis panicking. 'Tis' not a cute look on you." I shot him a flirty, devilish look I had seen him send at me countless times before when intending to demean me.

His lips parted; speechless. I felt the warmth of his hand as it hovered still by my shoulder, as if he were trying to decide whether to grab me again anyways. He looked around the room suddenly appearing to be sick.

Hilda re-emerged with a massive glass of dark liquid in her gloved fingers, "Oh great, look who's here." She scanned him with fatigue, sipping slowly.

"You're in _my_ house, don't forget it, Fawley" he seethed. All of his attention had turned to Hilda now, "Whatever this is that you gave her is worse, now she's just insolent and cocky. This won't go down well with my father." He swallowed with evident worry, pressing his lips into a thin line.

"Relax," Hilda took another sip and swiveled her head around, clearly seeking out better company, "You just can't handle a girl with a backbone, can you?" Her dark blue eyes trained on him with intent to antagonize. "Ah, I see my parents. I'll catch you two lovebirds later." And then she was gone, like black mist in the crowd.

I reached out my hand to Draco who looked like he was about to start sweating from a cesspool of conflicting emotions; anger, fear, disgust. The lump in his throat was bobbing as he scanned the room fearfully, swallowing and pulling at his collar. I wrapped my arm through his arm and gave him a soft smile, "See? Not so 'ard to let me come to you." He looked down at where my fingers were now gripping his suit and relaxed a little.

I watched his breathing level slightly now that Hilda had dissipated from our proximity and I was not being so evasive. He truly hated the manor, he seemed on edge as if any moment he would be slapped across the face. A completely different boy seemed to emerge at the Malfoy property than the one I knew at Hogwarts; one filled with terror and vulnerability.

The grand piano played deep, lulling classical music in the corner. The room was still darker than it needed to be, although most of the guests looked quite content with the moody atmosphere. Men with long tail coats and white gloves puffed cigars which only added a smoky element to the twilight of the room. Women stood gracefully and restrained their movements to small gestures. It felt like we had time travelled onto the titanic, and I wondered when it would all start to sink.

His eyes locked on something across the floor and his body grew quite rigid. He was suddenly slipping his arm upwards to entwine his fingers through mine, pulling our arms straight down together, leaning to whisper in my ear, "Follow me." He tugged me unapologetically, dividing people as he went with short taps on their shoulders. I gripped his warm hand like it was a lifeline as he moved rather rapidly through the ballroom. Guests gossiped openly at us as we passed through them, their eyes mainly glued to me.

Up ahead the density of the crowd subdued, providing view of a group of familiar, gaunt people next to a shiny suit of armor: the Malfoy's, accompanied by multiple other guests, including Astoria who was watching beadily as we closed the gap. Lucius Malfoy was eyeing me down like candy as we approached, swirling around a glass of brandy. His expression however was not one of disproval, indicating perhaps that he had no clue how much grief had been going on between Draco and I at school in his absence. Narcissa was in a dark black dress that shot straight down to her shoes like a silky waterfall, and was nodding at a story another gentleman was saying, who amusingly had an old-fashioned monocle hanging from his waist coat.

We stopped in front of Draco's family and he nodded to Lucius first, pointing his eyes down at his dress shoes, "Father."

Before Lucius could quip a brusque reply the man with the monocle barked, "Ah I see what you were talking about, Narcissa. She's a dream - you sure this isn't the wedding tonight?" He pointed his cane at the bottom of my long white gown while chewing on his cigar. I boldly raised an eyebrow back at him.

Lucius narrowed his blackening oceanic eyes at the man for the intrusion on his line, "Yes, well, all in good time, Greengrass. You are well aware these are delicate times. Priorities, of course." I stole a glance at Draco to see if his face would give away any indication of what Lucius meant by _delicate times._ His expression remained blank, his eyebrows slightly furrowed, staring at the suit of Armor's helmet behind Narcissa's bright blond hair.

Narcissa was sizing up my appearance with an air of authority, her face also unreadable. _Why did the Malfoy's always have to be so difficult to read?_ Contrarily, Astoria's face was far from unreadable as she took in mine and Draco's clasped hands with a look of betrayal. A girl next to her who appeared older but related to her was also shooting dirty looks in our direction.

"That mark must be burnt halfway down to her spine by now," the Greengrass man kept pushing mockingly, "Hell of a pain to ask a young lady to endure for so long. What is the meaning behind the hesitation? Surely current politics aren't preventing a ceremony that much." His hand levitated to land on Astoria's tiny shoulder as he spoke.

Lucius looked positively murderous, "No hesitation, Calhoun. I understand your... _resentment_ ," his gaze landed down on Astoria suggestively in his classic singsong tone, "The date has been set. Draco is satisfied with this arrangement, isn't that right, Draco?" Narcissa and Lucius both darted nods towards Draco.

His mouth twitched, "Yes, father." My mind raced with the new information; _the date has been set._ The cage was closing, the time I had to plan any escape from the situation was decidedly shorter than I'd expected. Never mind my complex feelings for their son. Never mind the daily irritation of the crest - I was strong enough to endure that.

 _When was the date set to?_ I was about to interject against my better senses when Astoria took the opportunity from me, "Oh he looks _terribly_ satisfied. They even hold hands. Since when do Malfoy's hold hands?" Her childish voice was coming out high pitched, the pain visible in her eyes. The comment was absurd in the current setting, and the silence that preoccupied the group was sickening. I half expected Lucius to use his cane to split our hands apart. Draco instead edged closer to me, shifting our entwined fingers into the fabric of our clothing and out of sight. He was looking more or less at the ground, horrified once again, but he held my hand tightly even still.

Finally the Greengrass man cleared his throat, scowling down at his daughter, "You'll excuse Astoria for her brashness. She is but a child still." Astoria's face went pink.

"So Madeleine, are you educated in ball room etiquettes?" Narcissa said in a smooth voice, changing the subject. Her eyes moved to the center of the room where people were dancing in pairs, elegant and rhythmically. She once again had her soft hands clasped in front of her, waiting.

The Felix Felicis pulsed through my veins, encouraging me to make a success out of the evening. I beamed adorably, "Why, yes of course. Naturally the regality of my upbringing fostered expertise in multiple forms of dancing, ballet not excluded."

Lucius sneered at Greengrass competitively but Narcissa's reaction was noble and pleased, "Obviously you will have to show us sometime. Tonight however, we were hoping to debut you and Draco officially as the first formal dance. You are of course, the future of the blood line and only heirs to the manor. It is fitting." Her face was polite but her eyes flashed managerially. _Attendance is mandatory. Dancing is mandatory._

 _She played her role well keeping me in line_ , I noted.

"It would be my honor," I said simply. I felt Draco let his breath out loudly in relief, his hand loosening in mine.


	23. ﴾ There Can Be No One Else ﴿

The sunlight danced across the black walls, vainly attempting to bring any type of life back to the manor. The night before had been so intensely draining that even long after I had been awake my body refused to move. My limbs were perfectly deadweight, the bed was soft and breezy.

He was a Death Eater and so was his entire family. Were the Fawley's also Death Eaters? The Parkinson's? The Greengrass's? I had willingly participated in a ball to celebrate the rising up of the dark lord with dozens of Death Eaters leering behind metal and smoke masks. The recognition that I was deplorable at best for not standing up against any of it just because I was frightened made me dread getting up even more. I wouldn't be able to look at myself in the mirror. My parents were surely going to disown me after that if they already hadn't.

Draco's breath on my cheeks forced my eyes wide open and I had to blink at least 10 times to clear the fog from my puffy eyes. My face was buried deep into his grey sweater. Of course I hadn't stayed on my own side. My arm was up _under_ his shirt, tugging at his bare rib cage, my nose in his neck. I panicked internally with the dawning realization and stayed perfectly still, trying to gauge his level of awareness. Perhaps I could remove my leg from around him and somehow slip my hand away before he noticed the affectionate cuddling.

 _One minute I'm about to sucker punch him and the next I'm snaking my hands up under his clothing, that's not confusing at all._ I was livid with myself for not having gone and slept on the floor or the large desk chair. 

His mouth was turned against my forehead like he was kissing me, the warm air from his nose blowing into my hairline. Not great. The sheer percentage of skin contact that needed to be separated conspicuously was far from promising.

I began with my hand, unclenching the tight grasp around his ribs. I moved to slide down his navel towards the bottom of his sweater. My fingers traced slowly on his smooth skin as I held my breath.

"As tantalizing as that is," he suddenly whispered, "it's kind of hard to get in the mood when we were just fighting hours ago." He leaned his head back to make eyebrows down at me and I ripped my hand out of his shirt feeling my face glow red hot.

"In your dreams," was all I could squeak out.

"How did you know? Was I talking in my sleep." He laughed dryly, looking tired but amused, "I'm not the one with my hands up someone else's clothing."

I scowled at him. He snorted, "Or with my dress pulled up." I followed his blue eyes down to where my leg was wrapped over his body, the extremely short nightgown had risen up to my waist showing off my athletic thighs, and probably my undergarments as well.

"Oh mon dieu!" I sat bolt right up, dying of embarrassment. I tugged at the dress until it was more acceptably doing it's job of covering my skin.

"It was a nice view, not that I'm complaining," he drawled, rubbing his face awake, "If you want hate sex you don't have to act so sheepish about it."

I stood, pulling at the night dress more, "If I wanted 'ate sex, I would go find an actual man. Maybe Potter could 'elp me out dere." I had gone too far, and we'd only just woken up. His eyes widened with an insidious glare that could melt glass.

He was off the bed in seconds gripping my shoulders so tight I thought my collarbone would snap, "You will _never_ show that kind of disloyalty, especially not to stoop so low as with the likes of _Potter_!" I thought for sure he would slap me, "If you do, my father won't waste a second decapitating you for your disgrace, if he's lucky enough to beat me to it," He was so furious I instantly regretted the comment.

"Okay, okay, I was but _joking_ ," I lied, looking into his distressed expression, willing the straps of my nightgown to stop slipping down in his grasp, "I won' do dat. Wit' anyone." I gave him a reassuring nod.

His concerned eyes were searching mine back and forth, "You will promise me. There can be no one else."

"Ugh, I promise," I said begrudgingly. A knot in my stomach began to bloom as I realized he expected me to be celibate to him for the rest of my life. If I didn't get out of the marriage bond, then Draco Malfoy would be the last partner I ever had. The sudden loss of opportunity occurred to me as a tragedy.

He slowly dropped his hands with unmasked relief. I studied him trying not to grin at the obvious jealousy flowing out of him. "Go get ready with my mother. You know where her room is. We'll go back to school now," he said more softly.

۞۞۞۞۞

Back in the carriage we hardly spoke for several hours. The only break in the silence was Draco using his cane to push my feet off of the chair when I hadn't removed my boots.

As we approached the final stretch of our journey I realized there was one topic I had not covered. Draco was once again slumped against the window but this time he looked tense, glued to the glass watching the movement of the landscape. Unlike when Hilda and I were in the car with him he was wide awake, stealing glances rarely in my direction as though to verify that I wasn't doing anything inappropriate.

I straightened the black dress Narcissa had put me in to travel which resembled more of a funeral gown than anything, and coughed to signal that I wanted to talk, "Draco, what 'appened to de Fawley's?"

Without moving his head his icy blue eyes drifted towards me, "Gone. Early. Only certain guests were asked to stay." He held my gaze with a blank expression.

I shrugged, getting right to the point, "Does Hilda know about... you?"

He hesitantly lifted his cheek off of the window and leaned forward to look me in the face with a serious expression, "No, she doesn't. It would be incredibly unwise of you to divulge any information you acquired on Friday." That was a relief, knowing that Hilda had not been compromised. 

I nodded, taking in the small details of the cabin as though they were very interesting. I was isolated with the Death Eater secret. If I told anyone I wondered how quickly would the Death Eaters ensure that person was dead, I was dead, or worse, my unsuspecting family?

"Madeleine, you have to compose yourself," he shot me a weary look. "Be smart. The people who were there last night...they're unforgiving." His gaze drifted away to the side, but his face was somewhat flushed.

"You don' trust me," I finally spoke the words that were lingering in the air.

I watched as he adjusted his ring and his bright piercing eyes quickly met my gaze, "No, not yet." His expression was austere.

The interaction sent me reeling. I hadn't thought of myself as untrustworthy up until that point. He didn't trust me, and I certainly didn't trust him. Maybe he was referring to my drunken irresponsibility, or my hot temper, probably the all around recklessness. 

I pawed at my throat for a while, adjusting the tight collar of the Malfoy dress wrapped around my body, "Well, I don' trust you." I said it like a child who felt the need to shift blame.

"I wouldn't expect you to," he said nonchalantly as he leaned back into the window. 

When the pretentious carriage arrived at the drop off point Draco excused himself from walking me up the forested lane, saying simply that he needed space and not to try anything in his absence. I had agreed rather fervently, also starving for alone time. 

Snow had piled high on the forest floor, sparkling elegantly in the bright sun. The air was sharp and cold, the smell of snow and pine needles ripe. Tall tree trunks stretched perilously high above my head, distributing creaking groans in the otherwise silent landscape. I could see my breath as I shifted forward through the thick snow in the ridiculous Victorian gown that was gently dragging, relieved to be free of Draco's presence. I watched as two birds landed together on the same branch making tiny chirping noises. 

Images from the night before swam caustically in my mind. Draco's tears falling into my lap and the fear he had shown on his features before the ball. The terrible signature mask he'd worn, allowing me to pluck him out a crowd of veiled figures. He had confessed his feelings for me through body language alone, and I knew that the hurtful things he'd said to me in his bedroom hours later were mere defense mechanisms. Still, the fact that he would rather cause me that much misery was deftly concerning. 

Now that I was certain he had feelings for me it was time to decide whether or not to use them against him. Or...could I try to win him over completely and we would escape together? It seemed that he was unified with his parents. Would he even want to escape? He had claimed that we were both trapped in the Malfoy family dynamic, but his actions stated he was still highly cooperative with their plans.

I stopped dead in my tracks when I was struck by an unbelievable sense of dread. For whatever reason I felt a sharp urgency to turn around, like something was watching me. 

I slowly spun. There, stood not fifteen meters from me was a dark, unfamiliar figure. A woman with long wild ringlets of obsidian hair, unkempt. She had a wand in her blackened fingers pointed out at the ground menacingly. Her attire resembled something a medieval warlord would wear - black leather belts strapped around her torso against an odd corset. She was licking her tarry teeth with an absolutely threatening look on her face and her eyes appeared manic as she stared predatorially at me.

Neither of us moved. I personally was frozen from shock and fear. The woman did not give off the vibrations of a friendly or harmless creature. She, for all anyone knew, had just stumbled upon her dinner in the woods. She slowly twisted the wand around then brought it up to her lips to mimic a _ssssshh_ gesture.

I swallowed as I tried to calculate the woman's agenda. I debated yelling anyways, as I had only walked about five minutes from Draco. Would he even bother coming if he thought I was in distress? 

She suddenly laughed a high-pitched, maniacal blurt, followed by devious sounding giggles. The outburst caused me to trip backwards several paces as she crept towards me. My heart was pounding violently when she had reached about a three foot distance. My brain urged me to run but I couldn't move. I was petrified and not able to comprehend anything.

She looked me over with dark wandering eyes, and I noted that she smelled awful and her face was sunken and bruised looking.

"Oooh isn't she a looker," She finally spoke in a gnarly voice, "Bet you're a real treat in the sheets huh?" I puzzled at the odd introductory comments. 

"What? Don't recognize your new auntie!" He eyes were wide with threat, words each coming out at entirely different volumes. She swung her black crooked wand around like a weapon.

I know I must have looked shocked because she laughed mockingly again. Aunt? As in another Malfoy? She didn't look anything like Draco besides her pale skin. The vicious demeanor did fit the bill, although she somehow took it to a whole other level. I sensed she was positively lethal compared to Lucius which was a fairly incredible feat.

"Well now that introductions have been made, let me get a look at you." In one swift movement she was before me, pulling a wall of my blonde waves away from my face with her wand as if to inspect it. My nose burned from the stench of her essence, "Tell me dearest, does it hurt when Draco bends you over? I heard on good authority that he can't keep his greasy fingers off of you." She stuck out her tongue and I fought not to vomit. She was dragging her wand down the side of my face over my temple and down my chin when a voice interrupted her.

"Bella. What a nice surprise," I heard Draco say in a calm, sarcastic tone. She whipped around to face him standing there in his dress coat and suit, looking statuesque. He had the cane in one hand and the other in his pocket. There in the wintry scene he could've passed for an expensive cologne ambassador.

Unfortunately her wand had scraped my face in the hasty movement leaving a painful blistering feeling. I cupped my cheek against the offence and finally found the energy to move my feet. I crept backwards slowly as Draco distracted her.

"Not trying to scare away my fiancée already, are you?" He asked blankly.

Bella laughed again, as though just having witnessed something hilarious, "Draco we mustn't refrain from sharing our toys. She's so innocent! Let's have some fun with her, see if she's really Malfoy material." The slight whine in her voice reminded me of a snarling dog being held back from it's meal barely by the leash.

I had made it now about ten meters back, enough to start running. I plucked up Narcissa's dress in my hands as my steps backwards became more haphazard and rapid. 

"She's my property, Bella. I have no interest in damaged goods. This isn't up for debate." He bent his head with a stiff look around her to see how far I'd made it.

The morbid woman dropped her hands against her sides dramatically, "Well! Aren't you lucky that mark is still on her pretty, little, neck. Can't leave it on there forever, can we?" She trilled in her polarized tone, "How's the wedding planning coming? Pick flowers yet?"

I decided I had made it far enough back to run so I did just that, pushing my feet to move forward harder and faster with every stride. I was held back by having to hold the dress up on either side and it didn't help that the fabric was weighty and thick, now wet at the bottom from the snow. When I couldn't hear their voices anymore I finally slowed down, choking on the frigid air and staring up at the safety of the castle.


	24. ﴾ Details ﴿

The castle was warm and buzzing with students heading to dinner. The familiar twinkling of candlelight was inviting after spending another night at the manor. Popular ghosts were flitting towards the Great Hall to interact with the young inhabitants. I had no appetite after everything I had already been through that weekend so I made a beeline for the dungeon dorms, pushing against emerging green robes. My cheek was still scarlet from the wand cut but gradually the crest burn had returned to it's normal aching. 

I was reminded by passing conversations that it was Saturday. The common room would be active that night, making it difficult for me to hide in my bedroom peacefully. I whispered the password at the wall, watching it move aside with lifeless eyes. 

My predictions were correct, there was already music playing and clusters of conversations happening. Some people had drinks in their hands which brought back memories of a night that had changed my life forever. Warrington, Blaise and Montague stood by the fireplace. I noticed that Warrington had a neck brace on and Montague's face was still changing colors from bruising. Blaise raised an eyebrow sharply as I entered and they all turned to glare at me. A vague clip of their conversation floated into my earshot as I passed by with my head down, "...just look at her face...probably beating her senseless..." then cruel laughing. 

I swallowed the mortification and went straight upstairs to change. The space was dimly lit and I felt relief that I could escape from reality and hide in my own bed. It was only dinner time yet I was carelessly under the covers, drifting away.

My dreams were splattered with images of the haggish woman's face. I was back in the woods and it was late in the evening. No trail could be found this time, and I wandered aimlessly between the trees. It was colder than before and I was bleakly aware that the sun would set soon. My steps were sluggish, like the air was the same thickness as water. Movement to my left drew my eyes and there she was. Peering out from behind a tree with that maniacal expression and evil grin, showing only half of her gaunt face. I made to run but my legs wouldn't move just as they had in real life. 

I cried out and the scream reverberated throughout the landscape like an echo. She was running at me now, but the world was stretching making it look like we were growing farther apart. 

"Madeleine," This voice also echoed, and I twirled around with my bright blond hair swimming through the air. Draco stood on the other side of me, meters away. His hand was outstretched towards me. It was hard to make him out through the falling snow. It was night suddenly, and everything was hard to see. I reached towards his hand but the vortex from behind me stretched, pulling me from him. My arm was bent desperately towards him but the world was swallowing me backwards towards the running woman. She had almost reached me, laughing hysterical echoes around us, somehow fighting against the pull of the air. When I looked back to Draco with desperation in my eyes, his face was concealed in the Death Eater mask, the smoke from the edges of the mirage billowing towards me. The smoke seemed to grow from the mask getting thicker and enshrouding me. I screamed into the smog as a snake like skull emerged and opened it's jaws as though to swallow me whole.

"Madeleine! Mad! Wake up you blithering idiot," Hilda was on the edge of my bed shaking me hard. Her face was stricken with worry. I sat up feeling clammy and frightened, long strands of hair were plastered to my forehead.

"You were screaming. Everyone could hear you from the common room, was it just a nightmare?" She asked while rubbing my shoulder. The kindness in her voice made me reach across and hug her tightly. 

"Yes, a nightmare. A terrible one." I said into her hair.

"Well, you're really sweaty," She said pushing me back carefully while trying to hide the obvious disgust at the contact, "Are you going to be alright? What are you even doing hiding up here on a Saturday night?" I took in her shiny silver dress and makeup. She had been downstairs socializing like a normal young woman. On the contrary, I was in a pale green night dress with a bow at the neck. Compared to her I looked like I belonged in an old age home. I hadn't seen her since the ball, and we hadn't even had a chance to say goodbye that night. "Your boyfriend is downstairs asking about you," she said making a cheeky grin, "Should I tell him you were murdered in your sleep?"

"E's not my boyfriend," I defended, pushing the covers off of me, "But please tell 'im dat."

She rolled her eyes, "I think he has a different idea. Fucking prat he is, going around bragging about your engagement. He's piss drunk right now it's quite a show." Hilda twirled around some of my long strands of hair while raising a questioning eyebrow, "And _you,_ where did you two go trotting off to last night? My parents had me riding all the way back to Hogwarts alone in my own carriage."

I sighed and buried my face in my hands. This was the moment that I had to _compose_ myself, as Draco had simply put. It was torture to lie to Hilda about the second half of the ball that she had missed, and to not have her support, but her life as well as mine was at risk. Many people's lives were at risk if I wasn't careful about how I approached dealing with the Death Eater information. 

I grasped at straws, willing my lying ability to get me through the conversation, "We were tired, went to bed," I slapped her knee playfully when she made a suggestive face, " _Not_ like dat! I can 'ardly stand 'im."

She looked amused, "Hmmm, handsome and brooding not your type, huh?" She was giving me an odd look like she knew more than she was letting on but I ignored it. 

"Are you coming down, Frenchness?" She asked as she stood and grabbed a goblet I hadn't noticed on the floor by my bed.

I shook my head, "Non, I am going to go wander in de green'ouses. I like it dere." I needed some familiar calm and being amongst plants was a rehabilitating experience for me. Herbology ran in my family for a reason.

She shrugged and left. I pulled off my night gown and dressed into light grey tights and a long dark blue shirt that looked more like a tunic from how far it hung down. I pulled on white dress slippers and shook my hair out, performing a cleansing spell. The nightmares had disturbed me enough that there was no chance I would go back to sleep any time soon.

I grabbed my grey satchel with my plant supplies and opened the doorway to the stairwell, instantly blasted by the sound of loud party music and the scent of alcohol. For once I wasn't in the mood and felt odd as I approached the main room, knowing that those who were not in favor of me would likely be more bold in their confrontations. 

I kept my head down trying to snake along the outer wall around dozens of bodies. The room was smoky which was strictly forbidden and I wondered if Snape would catch people in the act. The floor felt sticky and questionable, and I fought not to lose my slippers more than once. Halfway across the room I was ripped back by my arm and felt my eyes roll in annoyance knowing exactly who it was. "Malfoy!" I snarled, stomping my foot as he let go of my arm. 

He had on a white t-shirt and a black jacket, with black joggers, looking as fresh as ever. Except his eyes gave away that he was drunk as they glistened down at me. His expression was troubled, "You alright? Why were you screaming?" He leaned on the wall next to me and jammed his hands in his pockets, tilting his gaze at me.

 _Because you and your scary family give me nightmares_ I felt like blurting out. "Just nightmares, I am alright." I settled for admitting a half-truth. 

He suddenly furrowed his brows together and reached a hand out to touch my cheek where the wand burn was still pink, "Bella, she did this to you?" He asked with a punishing glint in his pale eyes, his finger tips trailing over the fragile skin.

I pulled my face away from the embrace, "Yes. She did. She's your Aunt?" I didn't bother trying to mask any distaste on my features. I watched as he shuffled and analyzed the stone pillars in the room as though it was his first visit to the space. 

"She is my aunt. How do you know that?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Oh you know how friendly she is. Told me all about 'erself," I waited patiently, but he just stared down at me. It was eerie between us for a few moments as neither of us moved, just looked at each other. 

Finally he spoke, "I shouldn't have left you alone. She took an interest in you last night. It was a mistake that I won't make aga-" Suddenly he was knocked into from behind and I had to take several steps back to avoid a collision with his t-shirt. Marcus Flint and Graham Montague had drunkenly decided to intrude on our conversation and I felt my heart sinking with fear in their presence.

"Malfoy!" Flint was spilling something from a goblet as he nudged Draco's ribs aggressively, "Why don't we finish our conversation from earlier?" He was leering between me and Draco with anticipation and shivers of dread went down my spine. 

Draco looked livid and stony as he stepped away from the spilling radius, the line between his eyebrows forming the familiar long crevice, "Find your manners, Flint. Did I invite you to interrupt my private affairs?"

Blaise had drifted up behind the first two boys, his eyes landing like bullets on me. He was standing with a straight spine and a calm composure, clearly not drinking with the rest of the crowd. "Not very private I'd say, from the details you were disclosing earlier." He moved his gaze back from Draco onto me in a way that made my skin crawl. My stomach started to fill with anxious butterflies, _what details?_

Montague chuckled darkly in my direction, "Aw, just look at her! Does she even know, Malfoy?"

Draco looked sick. Before I had decided if I really wanted to know I blurted, "Know what?"

The boys stole devious glances at each other as if asking who was going to say it. Blaise laughed and shook his head premonitorily. Flint started making suggestive moaning noises when Montague replied, "...you know, details..." He was cut off by Draco's wand at his throat.

"Enough!" He thundered and I saw Montague flinch. He was still covered in painful reminders from their last fight and I wondered to myself why on earth he would start another fight with Draco barely a week later. Some students in the vicinity wisely made space with the group and watched from the rims of their drinks.

The realization was now dawning on me what they were implying. I shot Draco a painful, questioning look and he swallowed noticeably. _Had he told them details about having sex with me?_ I searched his eyes, gently shaking my head in disbelief, seeing the regret laced in his, "Why... why would-" My stammers were cut off as a large slop of ectoplasm that had been lodged to the arched ceilings since Halloween detached itself. It hurtled as a singular, gooey blob landing directly on Draco, Montague and partially on Blaise. 

The glowing slime slowly rolled down their bodies as if digesting them. It dripped in putrid gobs from their hair and clothing while other students erupted in giggles. "Fuck!" Draco cursed, shaking his hand off and looking down his assaulted body.

I decided it was a perfect moment to leave for the greenhouses before I cried in a public space. My heart was fluttering from humiliation as I jumped up the dungeon stairs skipping as many as I could. 

۞۞۞۞۞

Stepping through a small archway, I emerged into the brilliant glass and stone green houses. The air was musky, damp, and the pungent notes of soil and water floated in the atmosphere. Dripping sounds feigned white noise in the background, and even though it was past dark, the glass ceilings had a dull green hue to them making the space seem brighter. Several arched glass buildings were conjoined by central doorways, each housing unique species of magical and herbal plants. 

I ran my fingers along the metal tables as I passed by beautiful red flowers which leaned invitingly towards me, giving off small squeaks. I breathed in deeply trying to find my center, trying to find peace against the building rage in my chest.

 _How could he do such a thing? What had he told them?_ It seemed so irrational to let any details slip of our intimate moments, especially after the Quidditch pitch incident. The men of Slytherin house were dogs, not a question about it. Why would he ignite a flame, encouraging them by giving them something to picture?

I paused at a cluster of potted flowering plants; signature black stems and white vivid flowers. They were swaying gently as if sleep walking in their potted beds. _Moly_ I noted in my head, drifting my fingertips up the gentle, arching black spines. Used to counteract powerful enchantments. Excellent also for uses in potions. The flowers invited the contact openly leaning against my palms. 

The greenhouses at night were unfortunately forbidden, but I had been there the year before under the same circumstances. Not yet caught, I was now feeling overtly assured that I was able to come and go as I pleased so long as to not cause any trouble. At night, tiny glowing spores tended to blossom into the air and float up to the ceiling like miniature stars. The walls were covered in vines, the air was warmer than the dungeons by a long shot. I was in a microcosmic heaven.

Except this time my anger was catching in my throat - an uncharacteristic mood to be in while visiting the greenhouses. I clenched at my fists and swallowed hard, feeling overwhelmed by the Malfoy prison I was invisibly trapped in. A tear slipped down my cheek and I furiously swatted it away as if the plants might pass judgement on my reaction.

"Curse de day you were born!" I yelled as Draco's eyes swam in my vision, and kicked at an innocent bucket nearby. He was so sadistic, so manipulative, when he cried was it even real or just a part of his games? Was he a psychopath? 

I shook with fury. I could feel the heat in my body swelling to a dangerous temperature and some leafy plants nearby began to lean away from me.

I screamed then, uncontrollably loud. It was a miracle that the glass walls didn't cave in from the vibrations. The need to expunge the secrets and the pressure from within had finally roiled to the surface. I felt flames ignite - literally, and looked down in shock. My fingers had small blue flames dancing along the tips and swirling in the palms of my hands. My shirt sleeves were smoking. The flame wasn't burning my skin though, just hovering almost orb like in my hands, and I found myself dropping to my knees transfixed by the wandless magic I had just conjured.

And just like that, as though it were tied to my emotions, it disappeared as my mind was distracted and no longer angry. I sat there in the pale light of the green house in shock on my knees. The dripping noises were the only sounds echoing around the glass rooms.


	25. ﴾ Foot Steps As They Walk ﴿

The following week was heavy. On Sunday, Snape had reminded me that I still needed to write several finals that were missed during my time at the Malfoy Manor recovering from Quidditch. Thankfully, the Slytherin Quidditch team was currently suspended from any more games until February due to multiple incidences of injuries which required investigation.

Between classes and during the evenings I sat in the bookstacks cramming as much information as I could until Pince kicked me out late at night. Sometimes I would notice Malfoy dragging his feet behind me down the hall, seemingly coming out of thin air. He didn't bother me, just watched where I was when outside of classes or the dorms. He always _knew_ where I was even when I hadn't told him, and his expression was consistently blank, stealing sideways glances at me that didn't last more than a second or two.

I had also tried without success to reconjure the mysterious, wandless, blue flame magic. At night I would study down in the common room late, and when my brain couldn't handle anymore I would attempt to implore feelings of respite and anger upon myself. Clenching my fists, or laying my palms out flat, picturing Malfoy and all the things he had done to me, involved me in. But the flame would not come as though it were offended by the effort.

It was Thursday, the day before I had to write and complete all of my exams in order to be caught up. I had skipped many of my classes simply opting to cram as much as possible in the library on that final day. The ancient book stacks provided their typical comforts from peering eyes and interruption. I had been there for almost six hours when a disruptive smack occurred to my left.

I looked up feeling bewildered by the inappropriate library conduct to see Harry Potter standing at the end of the bookstack, his closed fist glued against the wooden frame where it had been smashed against. He had a sharp look of determination on his dark features. Hermione Granger was hovering behind him looking displeased but also awkward.

"What is Malfoy to you?" Harry jumped straight to the point, "Don't lie to me either. I've seen you two around, heard the rumors. What is he planning?" He had stepped within a foot of me as I begrudgingly stood up and squared my tired frame to face him.

"Well..." I looked down to the side, not even sure what to say to them, "He is my, how do you say, my betrothed?" My words were coming out thin. I didn't have the energy or the permission to grant them any real information. I stood watching Harry's eyes widen and narrow.

"How can that be?" He asked in complete disbelief, "You never even spoke of him really. Now all of sudden you're, _engaged?_ " He looked to Hermione who's face had fallen into a despairing, uncomfortable look.

I glanced between them, realizing that Hermione had kept the secret of my bequeathment mark to herself. "Harry, it is so complicated. I am fatigued." I started collecting books into a pile and Harry stepped his foot down onto one of the texts I was pawing at.

I glared up at him as he pushed further, "Madeleine, is he threatening you? Is he forcing you into something you don't want? We can tell McGonagall, we can help you." His face was incredibly serious, irate even, as he clearly believed his own words to be true. Which they were.

I left the book on the floor and straightened myself again to level my eyes with his, "You would not understand even if I tried to explain." I knew my face was unfriendly, but it was better kept that way. Hermione looked at her shoes.

Harry maintained his powerful glare, "Try me." His persistence was distinguishing, that much was certain.

I swallowed. Hermione reached a delicate hand forwards and placed it on Harry's shoulder, "Harry..." She began before he cut her off abruptly.

" _What_ Hermione? Why are you acting so...odd?" He squinted at her now, "Do you _know_ something?"

She suffered to stand still, suddenly fidgeting with the metal clasp on one of her books and darting her eyes around the room. "Harry, Madeleine is entitled to her privacy. But," her brown eyes fell on me pleadingly, "Maybe if we ask _nicely,_ she will assist us with anything she can."

They both looked at me then and I closed my eyes to think. I could tell them everything and risk countless lives, but the possibility that they would hold the secret long enough to help was also probably worth a shot. I hadn't even told Hilda, why would I tell two Gryffindor's that I knew half as well? I heard a rapid whooshing and then a thick, dusty book cracked into the crown of my skull.

"Seriously?" I cried in outrage, rubbing my head. That problem had seemingly disappeared months ago, only to re-emerge as I was having to make a very intense decision. I would have to bring it up to Pince. I redirected my attention to the two, having made a partial decision, "Okay fine, but not 'ere. Follow me." I bent to grab my final text from the floor, and spun on my heal to leave the library swiftly. I looked back to see they had indeed followed.

We made our way to the exterior walls of the castle to the top of the pathway that led down to the lake. I paused to wrap a Slytherin scarf around my neck. I scanned around for Malfoy, wondering if he was up to his usual stalking.

"Who are you looking for," Harry said, unable to apparently control his involvement, "Malfoy?"

Hermione's eyes looked furrowed, "He...does follow you around a lot. I've noticed it myself, actually."

I ignored them, squinting desperately at every crevice. There were students milling around in hoards making it difficult to discern a hiding individual, "He is 'ere somewhere, you can bet on dat. Nevermind 'im, he usually keeps 'is distance. Let's go."

I led them down to the oak tree in silence. Surprisingly, there wasn't an alarming level of tension between us as we trudged through the January snow. Harry and Hermione had no snide comments to offer, no sarcastic quips about the circumstances - it was relieving somewhat to be with other people besides Slytherins for once. I kept scanning the distance between us and the castle for Malfoy, fully expecting him to show up for this momentous occasion if ever, but his figure was not visible.

We stood by the edge of the lake and I felt the corner's of my eyes tearing from the icy draft. Harry shoved his bare hands into his pockets looking impatient, "Madeleine, there are really imperative reasons for why we came to you today. The world could depend on it." I rotated my head to study the plea in his eyes, "The Malfoy's are involved with the dark lord, aren't they? They're Death Eaters."

I suddenly felt very cold and helpless with the sharp confrontation, "Even if dey were 'arry, I could not tell you." My voice was weak to match my own state of pitiful bravery. I fumbled with lint in my pocket to deviate my attention from blossoming anxiety.

"Right because he's your _betrothed?_ " Harry was actively bitter. I watched as his spectacles fogged up from his breath and he stuck a finger in savagely against the glass to rub it away. "Do explain this to me Madeleine because it's obviously forced."

I took a deep breath of the frosty wind. My extensive locks of hair danced around my shoulders and face rebelliously. Hermione shocked me by placing a hand on my shoulder. Her eyes were comforting and supportive and I knew it was time. It wasn't as though the mark was necessarily a secret to any of the other students, more than half of the Slytherin common room now knew about it. 

I grabbed at my wild hair and contained it into a bundle, pulling it away from my neck to show Harry. He stepped forward and inhaled sharply, stupefaction marking his features, "Is that the Malfoy family crest on your neck?" His mouth was open with disbelief. I nodded solemnly.

"A bequeathment mark to be exact," Hermione interjected as if on cue, "It's an ancient form of an unbreakable vow, very old and dark magic that ensures that whoever bears the mark of it's giver will follow suit from taking their virginity and marry into the family. Initially it was enforced by families of the Sacred 28 to keep order and civility, to ensure that their bloodlines could be controlled properly, but many have disowned the practice with modern times. I suppose the Malfoy's of all families wouldn't have the decency to abolish such a principle. Harry, you must understand the gravity of this situation. Madeleine _must_ marry Malfoy. It is that or she will...she will perish." Her voice will filled with sympathy as she said it. 

Both Harry and I were speechless for probably separate reasons. I was perversely cognizant that Harry now knew I had slept with Malfoy. I stared down at the ice covered rocks under my boots feeling nauseous and unstable. An unbreakable vow? I would _die_ if I didn't marry him?

"Originally, I thought perhaps there would be a way to break it or legally object to it. But I've been doing some research on the marks, and I'm certain now that nothing can be done about it. The magic is so old, I doubt anyone could even dissect how to counteract it." She continued explaining in her classic ramble as Harry and I stood wide eyed digesting the information.

"Did he rape you?" Harry practically screamed it at me, hardly giving Hermione a chance to finish speaking. I shook my head wildly, feeling a stab of discomfiture at the confirmation. His eyes roved over me hungrily, looking at me in an entirely new light. My face felt white hot as I looked back at him, fighting not to shut my eyes and escape into the darkness of my eyelids. 

"Then I don't feel sorry for you," he bluntly replied and Hermione quickly swung her satchel at him with force.

"Harry Potter! Just exactly how is this any better? He has enslaved her to an ancient, barbaric marriage bond that she had no forewarning about!" Her frizzy hair was sticking up from her head and she stood back to smooth it, "We have to help her through this if we have any sense of morality."

He narrowed his eyes at her, then to me, seeming to come to some decision, "Fine. Then we'll trade our so-called _support_ for information. Starting with my bloody map!" He looked at me squarely and I could see his jaw clenching, "Madeleine, have you ever seen Malfoy with a map? Something very important to me has gone missing and I believe he has it."

"A map?" I asked quizzically, trying to think if I had seen such an item in Draco's hands, "Non?"

He seemed unconvinced, "It...it would look like a piece of parchment, only not. It would show people's names within the castle. Foot steps as they walk. That sort of thing."

I scrunched up my nose trying to picture the concept, "So, et would allow you to see where every one is at all de time?" I pondered aloud.

"Yes, precisely." He nodded.

I gasped with awareness, "Oh non! He can see us right now? 'ere?"

Hermione paled, "She's right Harry, how did we not think of this earlier? We should start walking back." She closed her satchel and tightened it around her frame. As we turned to leave Harry continued speaking.

"If you do see it, don't hesitate to try and get your hands on it. It's really important that we get it back." He was waving his hand around as he spoke, the fingers stiffly straightened.

"Okay, I will try," I muttered, unsure if I could even be sneaky enough to remove a personal item of Draco's without him knowing. He was so incredibly attentive to detail and always in control of our interactions, and I feared what he might do to me if he caught me snooping. 


	26. ﴾ Truth or Dare ﴿

Friday morning was begrudging at best. I wrote three exams in the span of one day, dismissed from all other classes and only allowed to take a break for lunch. I was ready for a reckless, drunken night with Hilda before she even had the opportunity to suggest it.

We were in our shared commons picking outfits and getting ready, "So, tell me what progress you've made on this whole Draco nightmare, Frenchness," She chattered light heartedly while digging around in a box full of jewelry. I glanced around to ensure that we were alone.

"'arry Potter and 'ermione Granger will 'elp," I stated, tugging at a gold long sleeved dress that I'd just put on.

Hilda's chin shot up, "Why would you ever want help from Gryffindor's? God, they're so annoying. Think they know everything." She frowned at a bracelet in her fingers.

I inspected the glittery dress using my grandmother's hand mirror. It was practically vacuum sealed to my curves and fairly short above my thighs. "Dey 'ave deir uses. And, I am going to seduce 'im tonight." I smirked at her.

Hilda grinned stepping off of her bed. Her flirty red dress swirled with the movement looking like a flower petal around her waist, "Ooh, let's have some fun with that poor boy tonight. You are definitely wearing that. And this..." She flicked her fingers through the jewelry box and emerged holding a bright gold necklace with a sapphire in the center. It looked like it belonged in an Egyptian museum. I clapped my hands with excited approval.

By the time we were walking down the stairs we had already procured a strong buzz, drinking recklessly as usual from Hilda's new bottomless flask. We both had to steady ourselves on the curvilinear wall as we took calculated steps on the stone stairs in pointy high heels. Pansy passed us on the way up the stairs and she stopped momentarily to take in our dresses with a judgmental sneer.

The common room was packed in a typical manner. Hilda and I drew a few glances as we crossed the room to the fireplace where the older students were clustered, some sat on the floor in front of the tall fireplace. I spotted Draco in a large green leather seat. 

He had on an incredibly sharp navy blue suit that hugged him tightly and my heart lurched uncomfortably as I took in just how utterly stunning he looked. He was poised in the chair, one arm bent on the arm rest up towards his face with a crystal glass, dark liquid swirling inside. His bright blue eyes were focused on Blaise who he was laughing back and forth with, and his ring glinted in the green firelight.

"Well, that's your man," Hilda said shaking her head awestruck, "My god, it's too bad he's such an insufferable prick. You remember what we planned, right?" She purred and winked at me. I watched her break away and go wedge herself between Blaise and Marcus who didn't seem to mind her addition to their couch at all.

With my heart fluttering I stepped up to the group. Draco's eyes flickered directly to mine like magnets. He raised an eyebrow at me with a sly grin, scanning slowly down my body predatorially. I grinned back at him and moved around his chair, sitting directly in his lap. I draped my arm around his neck and threw my legs over the arm of the chair making myself comfortable square in his lap. He froze entirely and I forced myself not to laugh at his wide eyes and shocked expression. Boys in the vicinity started roaring with laughter at the bold move. Hilda looked about to burst from laughter as well but maintained a wide smile instead.

"Got her trained real good eh Malfoy?" Marcus Flint slapped his knee, eyeing my legs with a positively animalistic expression.

"Shut the fuck up Flint," Hilda sliced at him.

Draco was squirming underneath me and I could sense he was fighting an erection from forming, "What are you doing?" He hissed under his breath, our faces close together. His breath smelled strongly of fire whiskey, "Change of heart all of a sudden?" He didn't seem convinced that I had sat on him honestly. His eyes were lasered in on mine, eyebrows knit tightly together.

I tickled his neck line with my fingers seductively and brought my lips close to his, "Maybe. Let me stick around and you can find out." My eyes were focused downwards, then I brought them up to meet his, flirting in old ways I'd used on countless boys.

He snorted at the teasing and I could feel the sharp exhale from his teeth against my face, "By all means." He had raised his eyebrow again at me as though he suspected I was up to something. He slid his free hand around my waist to lock me in place on his lap and sipped at his drink.

My head spun from the warmth of his body and the familiar scent of his cologne, and I was acutely reminded of how drunk I had gotten with Hilda. Draco was leaning around me now, talking with Blaise again. I tilted my head into his neck and looked out at the rest of the group.

"That investigation will procure nothing of value. My father will ensure it get's dealt with - we'll be back on the pitch before Dumbledore's sleepy arse can even lift a finger," his voice was silky in my ear, dripping with aristocratic arrogance. I could hear how drunk he was in the way he spoke so openly, usually remaining much more reserved. I could see his sharp jaw line moving in front of my eyes with every word. His fingers were squeezing my waist over and over, feeling me up and down in small increments. 

My blood in my face was hot and present, and I knew I no longer had to act to seduce him. I was already lost in the physical attraction, the pheromones' had once again taken the wheel. Underneath me I could feel he was on the same page from the rising bulge in his pants and the throbbing in his jugular.

"Let us... _play a little game_." Hilda suggested wickedly, swigging from her flask then leaning forward to pass me it, "The muggles call it Truth or Dare." I watched as Flint's eyes zeroed in on her backside as she was leaning across him.

I was gulping a large shot when I heard Draco respond, "See you've gone and replaced that horrible thing already Fawley. Really, it's shocking that you haven't faceplanted yet." His voice was slightly more breathy than usual, probably from being aroused. His squeezing moved lower and lower.

Hilda narrowed her eyes at him with loathing, avoiding his obvious groping of me, "Look who's talking, Malfoy, you drunk piece of shit. Besides, you did me a favor. I like this one much better. Now, listen up." She then explained the premise of the game to the group and people shrugged in agreeance, nothing better to do.

Hilda went first, picking dare. Montague dared her to flash her underwear immediately. She rolled her eyes dramatically, "Really Graham? That's weak but alright." She stood and quickly brought her dress up and then down, flashing a pair of bright red lacy knickers. The boys were all hooting as she sat back down, smiling and shaking her head. Next Warrington chose dare, and he was forced to charm his nose into a pig's snout until the game had concluded. I couldn't help but think that it was perfectly suiting.

Draco's hand was now completely flat over my ass. His lips were slightly parted and I could tell he was struggling to compose himself, refusing to make eye contact with me. I had kept intentionally shifting around to drive him wild, causing him to drink more. Hilda's voice calling my name broke my focus where I was buried deep in his neck, my lips dragging against his skin.

"Madeleine, your turn." My eyes wandered over her lips which were whispering _dare._

 _"_ Dare," I obediently requested, then laughed devilishly.

She smiled a menacing grin, "I dare you to..." her eyes flitted over Draco's face, "I dare you to give Draco a lap dance for us." It was suddenly silent as eyes drifted over to Draco and I. Blaise was rubbing his forehead and chuckling with amusement, his eyes locked to Draco's wide ones. I was surprised that Draco didn't blurt out a disgusted argument against the dare but he was quiet like a statue.

"What's wrong Draco? Can't handle the dare?" Warrington leered, looking ridiculous with the pig snout, "Let the girl dance. It's the rules."

"This should be good," Flint started, "I've heard that Veela's dances are irresistible." His face looked morbidly entertained as he stared at me.

"She's only part-Veela you idiot," Hilda reminded him, "She's not gonna turn into a bird or anything afterwards."

I peeled myself off of Draco who's eyes watched me move nervously, and made sure to drag my fingers across his chest as I did so. It wasn't my first time dancing on a boy, and I was going to make this legendary.

I lifted my hands into my long blond waves and stepped back from him slowly, biting my lip seductively. He looked utterly paralyzed with his mouth open and eyebrows up. I half expected him to get up and run.

My gold dress glittered iridescently in the light as I moved and spun with practiced grace. I bent forward and spread his knees apart with my hands and then slowly drifted into his lap, hovering just barely over his clothing. I brought my head back to rest on his shoulder as I ground on him. 

He was gripping the sides of the chair, digging his nails into the leather. I could feel his breathing coming out harshly against my chest as I rubbed my body against his, explicitly aware that he had a perfect view of my cleavage. I turned my face into his neck and bit his ear, breathing on his skin. I could feel him throbbing against me with desperation.

Suddenly he was out of the chair, lifting me up with him and grabbing my hand. He dragged me towards the dormitory exit at break neck speed. The boys started shouting profanities and laughing hysterically. I looked over my shoulder at Hilda, who was smiling with success and holding her thumb up.

The moment the wall closed he pinned me against the corridor stones, his tongue invading my mouth thirstily. I kissed him back with equal ferocity and wrapped my arms around his neck to pull him down, the fire between us catching on everything around us. His fingers went straight up between my thighs without hesitation and shoved my panties aside. I gasped against his lips, feeling a throbbing starting to build there. His other hand was on the small of my back, arching me towards him greedily.

He was kissing my neck under my jaw line, "Madeleine...right now." He commanded and begged simultaneously.

I pulled his blond head back with both hands to look at me. His bright blue eyes were almost reduced to pitch black from how dilated his pupils were and he was focusing on my lips as I spoke, "I know where we can go," I whispered and pulled him behind me. We walked the short distance to the greenhouses, one floor up, ignoring the glances and whispers from staring students.

The glowing spores were clustering around the ceilings again, and the odd green hue shown on both of our faces as I walked backwards into the room biting my lip and giggling at him. He was letting me pull him by his hand, eyes locked on my body like a little boy at a candy shop window. The room was hot and wet, giving off the earthy smell of a forest.

I shoved him against a metal frame shelf covered in plants and he yelped as dirt dusted down onto his hair. I kissed him passionately; he tasted like whiskey and smoke, his lips unbelievably soft. Then I started trailing kisses down his neckline, tugging a few of the buttons loose from his dress shirt. My hands moved down his body on both sides while his remained in the air, unsure of what was apparently happening.

My hands reached his waist line and I tugged at his belt buckle with authority, ripping it off of him effectively. He was panting now, running a hand through his hair as I sucked at his at neck and worked my hands on his pants zipper, "Madeleine...I don't understand..."

I pulled back and stuck a finger against his lips, whispering, " _sssshh_." In a swift movement my hand was in his boxers and wrapped around his cock, stroking it expertly. I heard him groaning in a light, helpless voice and cursing, his eyes closed and his head hit the metal behind him in submission.

I started kissing down his chest where half of the buttons were open and inviting while pushing his boxers down and out of the way. I dropped swiftly to my knees, my hands still up on his jacket sides. I started licking and sucking gently at his hardness, reveling in how clean and smooth he was. I pushed him all of the way into my throat and felt his hand tangle in the long waves on the crown of my head. Not to shove my head, just to grab onto anything. His tug on my hair was sharp and slightly painful, but I ignored it and kept bobbing my head back and forth, moving my tongue in practiced rings, slightly gagging from the size of him. His cries from the movements were loud and desperate in the cavernous room, echoing around the glass slightly.

Where my hands were on his jacket I could make out a hard, square shape of parchment pressed into his left pocket. _The map?_ I lightly traced over the object to gain a better sense of it's properties, while trying to pass it off as mindless groping.

Then his hands were under my arms dragging me upwards. He pressed a few warm kisses onto my mouth which made time suspend, before spinning me on the spot and bending me over the table across from us. I was shocked by the audacious move but it had worked; I didn't object. His hand pressed down on the base of my spine hard while he yanked my panties down to my ankles. Then, his shoe slid against mine shoving my legs farther apart and I gripped the table in anticipation of the coming penetration, my fingers webbing through the metal grating.

He was pushing my dress up onto my hips to expose my entire back side. The aggression was so different from the first two times we had hooked up I was temporarily taken aback, when suddenly he was inside me, pumping hard and mercilessly. I moaned loudly as my organism began immediately building from the ecstasy.

He was gasping and cursing more loudly than ever, running his hands over my butt cheeks and up on both sides of my thin waist, pulling me towards him to build rhythm. It hadn't been mere minutes but I couldn't fight the unbelievable build up and I cried out as I felt myself clenching and throbbing tightly against him. "Fuck," he whispered, and also lost control.

We stayed there for a few moments, him breathing so hard it sounded like he'd just ran a marathon. He eventually seemed to stop moving, and I felt him pull away. I turned around and pulled my dress back down, and slid my panties back into place. My hair was tangled from the interaction and I ran my fingers through it a few times to mildly tame it.

He was buttoning his shirt back up and I noticed his hair was spikey and messy as well. I approached him slowly and wrapped my arms around his waist. He turned his face to me and I pushed up onto my toes and pushed my lips into his, drawing him into a soft, warm embrace. I could feel the parchment in his jacket pressed against the inside of my arm.

When we pulled away he smirked and shook out his hair, "What made you want this tonight, Madeleine?" He was studying the room, all of the plants, the glass ceilings, anywhere but at my face.

"Does der 'ave to be a reason?" I asked shyly, not really sure what to say to the question. It had truthfully been two answers: one had been deliberately so that he would fall even deeper for me effectively providing me with more control, and the other had been out of genuine interest in it. Not that I was proud of the latter as Hilda had been correct in calling him an insufferable prick.

He was quiet as he toyed with the useless answer. He sighed, placing his hands on his hips as he looked at me, "Admit it, you wanted it. You planned this, somehow." His eyes roved over my face accusatorially, narrowing slightly. The navy suit made his shoulders look tight and perfectly square, his form resembled a sculpture.

I shrugged, smiling softly, "Bad 'abit?"

He huffed, "I'd hardly call sex with your fiancée a bad habit." He was being serious and I burst into a fit of giggles at the notion that he actually considered me his fiancée. The alcohol in my veins with the added euphoria of the hook up had me feeling silly and happy.

I draped my hand over his shoulder and tried to contain my giggles, "Oh yes, my _betrothed._ 'ow could I ever forget?"

He genuinely smiled at me as he said, "Yes precisely. Don't forget it." He pulled me closer to him by the sleeve of my dress and I found myself lost in the rare kindness and warmth in his eyes. The moment seemed to stretch on like neither of us wanted to move or change it in any way.

He finally snorted and broke eye contact, staring down at the floor, "We can't go back there until every one is asleep. They're not going to be forgiving with their vulgarities."

"Well I suppose we could make our own fun to pass de time," I coyly said as I reached for the metal frame shelf which I'd pushed him against earlier. Hilda's flask had come along on the journey by accident and I'd stashed it there before we'd been intimate.

"Is that what you want? Really?" he said, tugging at the edge of his sleeve to straighten it. 

"Oui," I said in a rather goofy tone, smiling too widely, "And I want to go to de Astronomy Tower to watch de stars." I spun in a circle, looking up at the ceiling where very faintly the tiny, white dots that made up the galaxy could be seen glittering above the foggy glass.

He smirked at my silliness and then looked his shoes, an expression of real happiness faintly glimmering in his eyes.


End file.
